Blue Fever
Remembering that,
in some preserved chamber of my sanity,
is your name.
Scarred into dying birch.
Etched in some warped bench.
Call me, sometime.
know me as the sometimes you once held under a warm sky.
I’m in bed, feet wrapped in blankets and my sides are cramped up.
There’s a slight chill,
your touch lingers.
and it burns.
Hand me another drink.
something drowning in rocks,
a crystal blue, like the sea you swim in.
sinking, submerged in you.
I want to swim again,
but , to be this blue,
I cannot imagine I’d want to swim in my own sorrows.
Nov 28, 2017
Nov 28, 2017 at 1:03 PM UTC
Blue Fever
Remembering that,
in some preserved chamber of my sanity,
is your name.
Scarred into dying birch.
Etched in some warped bench.
Call me, sometime.
know me as the sometimes you once held under a warm sky.
I’m in bed, feet wrapped in blankets and my sides are cramped up.
There’s a slight chill,
your touch lingers.
and it burns.
Hand me another drink.
something drowning in rocks,
a crystal blue, like the sea you swim in.
sinking, submerged in you.
I want to swim again,
but , to be this blue,
I cannot imagine I’d want to swim in my own sorrows.
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