Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
I'm caught up in the street lights once again. I feel like I'm a titan at the peak of Mt. Olympus. My head feels like I'm violent, but my mind is violins, as I shade my eyes from the sunrise from way back when I was 9 or 10. We could stare forever at these break lights or look through blurry pictures that we took on all those late nights. You looked so happy even though I knew we had a cast on but you can only see your face because I forgot to turn the flash on. We ran outside that night, we noticed it was "too cold for our feet" snow. We kept it up and gave it our best, but the times were hard to keep so now they seem more like keepsakes. Is that a cursing or a blessing? They say that life is worth the learning, but they want me to teach the lesson. 50% white noise. 50% radio. Those are the thoughts of a quiet broken heart that sits in the passenger seat. My driver wants to **** me...but I'm not really that scared though. Tell me I'm alive. Tell me I'm living. Tell me that I'm not alone in this world. You say you can't sing...but as long as you're singing, I will know I'm more than last December.
0
Oct 1, 2014
Oct 1, 2014 at 8:31 PM UTC
i'm more than last december.
I'm caught up in the street lights once again. I feel like I'm a titan at the peak of Mt. Olympus. My head feels like I'm violent, but my mind is violins, as I shade my eyes from the sunrise from way back when I was 9 or 10. We could stare forever at these break lights or look through blurry pictures that we took on all those late nights. You looked so happy even though I knew we had a cast on but you can only see your face because I forgot to turn the flash on. We ran outside that night, we noticed it was "too cold for our feet" snow. We kept it up and gave it our best, but the times were hard to keep so now they seem more like keepsakes. Is that a cursing or a blessing? They say that life is worth the learning, but they want me to teach the lesson. 50% white noise. 50% radio. Those are the thoughts of a quiet broken heart that sits in the passenger seat. My driver wants to **** me...but I'm not really that scared though. Tell me I'm alive. Tell me I'm living. Tell me that I'm not alone in this world. You say you can't sing...but as long as you're singing, I will know I'm more than last December.
bradley-gillespie
Written by
Oct 1, 2014
Oct 1, 2014 at 8:31 PM UTC
Request permission to use this poem