Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
marco-avrePoems
Life got overturned in your curls. Curls with which I put together the fabric. Fabric, with which we wiped shame off of our faces. We didn't know how to choose. We choked when we shouldn't even drink. By mistake. By mistake one bites its own heart, one forgives a betrayal, one cries instead of laughing, one dies in its sleep, but you can't deceive someone like this, by mistake. In the clouds of your coffee, did the loneliness that you felt when you woke up with him, ever peeped out? Did you wish that I was him when you hung wet sheets from the sky? When you dreamt of the right man but woke up in the wrong bed? By mistake. By mistake one bites its own heart, one forgives a betrayal, one cries instead of laughing, one dies in its sleep, but you can't deceive someone like this, by mistake. If I had ever known that your winter would strain in my nest, I would've forbidden you to climb so high, I would've denied you the fruit of my tree. Of the ghosts we raised, Of the shadows we harvested, of those pagan rituals, having offered you my heart was my only mistake, I did it by mistake. By mistake.
0
Jan 23, 2014
Jan 23, 2014 at 11:41 PM UTC
Twenty Nine
Life got overturned in your curls. Curls with which I put together the fabric. Fabric, with which we wiped shame off of our faces. We didn't know how to choose. We choked when we shouldn't even drink. By mistake. By mistake one bites its own heart, one forgives a betrayal, one cries instead of laughing, one dies in its sleep, but you can't deceive someone like this, by mistake. In the clouds of your coffee, did the loneliness that you felt when you woke up with him, ever peeped out? Did you wish that I was him when you hung wet sheets from the sky? When you dreamt of the right man but woke up in the wrong bed? By mistake. By mistake one bites its own heart, one forgives a betrayal, one cries instead of laughing, one dies in its sleep, but you can't deceive someone like this, by mistake. If I had ever known that your winter would strain in my nest, I would've forbidden you to climb so high, I would've denied you the fruit of my tree. Of the ghosts we raised, Of the shadows we harvested, of those pagan rituals, having offered you my heart was my only mistake, I did it by mistake. By mistake.
marco-avre
Written by
marco-avre
Mexican
Jan 23, 2014
Jan 23, 2014 at 11:41 PM UTC
Request permission to use this poem