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samantha-leroyPoems
I wish you bent spoons. I wish you 3 a.m vibrating headaches. I wish you salty fish eyes wedged between toes. I wish you one broken ear bud, A late bus, Perpetual goosebumps rolling over skin. I wish you holes in your favorite shirt. I wish you bitten tongue. I wish you panic attack, Burnt toast, Hot water scald. I wish you nothing but bad poems. I wish you crooked teeth, cracked smile. I wish you spider legs. I wish you broken middle finger. I wish you scratches in all your records, Even the ones you don’t like. I wish you weak coffee And weak bones. I wish you lipstick stain on the collar of your work shirt And her perfume starting a windstorm. I wish you hell like fury From a woman scorned. I wish you mismatched shoes. I wish you gutted grief. I wish you clumps of wax when you Desperately need a candle. I wish you undercooked meat. I wish you bedroom floors and popcorn bowls. I wish you see my face Every time you run your ***** hands Down her clean body. I wish you choke on that feeling at the back of your throat, The one that reminds you of guilt. I wish your fingerprints would melt from my memory. I wish December to finally end.
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Apr 1, 2015
Apr 1, 2015 at 6:36 PM UTC
Wish List
I wish you bent spoons. I wish you 3 a.m vibrating headaches. I wish you salty fish eyes wedged between toes. I wish you one broken ear bud, A late bus, Perpetual goosebumps rolling over skin. I wish you holes in your favorite shirt. I wish you bitten tongue. I wish you panic attack, Burnt toast, Hot water scald. I wish you nothing but bad poems. I wish you crooked teeth, cracked smile. I wish you spider legs. I wish you broken middle finger. I wish you scratches in all your records, Even the ones you don’t like. I wish you weak coffee And weak bones. I wish you lipstick stain on the collar of your work shirt And her perfume starting a windstorm. I wish you hell like fury From a woman scorned. I wish you mismatched shoes. I wish you gutted grief. I wish you clumps of wax when you Desperately need a candle. I wish you undercooked meat. I wish you bedroom floors and popcorn bowls. I wish you see my face Every time you run your ***** hands Down her clean body. I wish you choke on that feeling at the back of your throat, The one that reminds you of guilt. I wish your fingerprints would melt from my memory. I wish December to finally end.
#freeverse
samantha-leroy
Written by
samantha-leroy
American
Apr 1, 2015
Apr 1, 2015 at 6:36 PM UTC
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