Incense smoke lingers heavily in the air,
attempting to mask the smell of stale beer
and spilled **** water.
Arrest warrants hang with straight A report cards
and dated paintings I used to call art.
You and I, woven in between soft and stained sheets
on my hand-me-down mattress.
Our clothes, thrown into heaps on the floor.
I stare at faded, falling posters while you trace my scars
left by a pair of hands before yours.
Buddha watches over dusty photo albums and
half read books I will never finish as
Mary hangs off your neck
watching over an unfinished me.
We lay underneath burned out bulbs of ceiling
string lights listening to scratched CDs skip,
sharing a sweet cigarette.
I know you and I are not forever.
like these walls I have outgrown.
Oct 14, 2016
Oct 14, 2016 at 9:48 AM UTC
Incense smoke lingers heavily in the air,
attempting to mask the smell of stale beer
and spilled **** water.
Arrest warrants hang with straight A report cards
and dated paintings I used to call art.
You and I, woven in between soft and stained sheets
on my hand-me-down mattress.
Our clothes, thrown into heaps on the floor.
I stare at faded, falling posters while you trace my scars
left by a pair of hands before yours.
Buddha watches over dusty photo albums and
half read books I will never finish as
Mary hangs off your neck
watching over an unfinished me.
We lay underneath burned out bulbs of ceiling
string lights listening to scratched CDs skip,
sharing a sweet cigarette.
I know you and I are not forever.
like these walls I have outgrown.
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