"reorganised" poems
My brain's torn apart,
Full of the things you've said.
But I guess you don't really care anymore
About how much I'm hurt.
If you knew how I spent the few last nights,
Crying my eyes out, emptying my body
Now I'm empty.
I've given you everything ;
My trust, my passion, my heart, my love,
I had reorganised all my life
Depending on what you were doing
Or where you were going.
Oh I don't thing you realise
Or if you can even imagine,
The pain I'm going through right now.
Every time I hear a song, it reminds me of you
Every time I get a text,
I hope it's from you.
I wish I could call you when I miss you,
Like I used to do when we were together.
The hardest part in all of this,
is thinking that I will never be able to hold you
in my arms again,
Nor tell you I love you
and that I wish you were here with me.
I just want to taste your lips just one more time.
Spend the night with you, curled up in your arms,
My head would rest near your neck
Our fingers would be tangled,
again.
I can't stand to see you now,
I'm so hurt. If only you knew.
I can't believe you asked if we could stay friends,
Have your feelings for me died ?
I'm so sorry I ******* up everything
once again.
I keep talking to you inside my head,
I don't understand.
I must be going crazy.
Look at me now,
There's nothing left.
I still wish you would take me back.
I just want to crawl down at your knees,
Telling you how much I miss you
I'm so sorry I'm so weak,
I can't stop thinking about our moments together
Our first kiss is my best memory
But every second was source of joy.
Please forgive me for being so madly in love with you,
Now I'm just trying to pick up the pieces
of my broken heart.
May 23, 2012
May 23, 2012 at 12:11 PM UTC
Apeneck Sweeney spreads his knees
Letting his arms hang down to laugh,
The zebra stripes along his jaw
Swelling to maculate giraffe.
The circles of the stormy moon
Slide westward toward the River Plate,
Death and the Raven drift above
And Sweeney guards the hornèd gate.
Gloomy Orion and the Dog
Are veiled; and hushed the shrunken seas;
The person in the Spanish cape
Tries to sit on Sweeney’s knees
Slips and pulls the table cloth
Overturns a coffee-cup,
Reorganised upon the floor
She yawns and draws a stocking up;
The silent man in mocha brown
Sprawls at the window-sill and gapes;
The waiter brings in oranges
Bananas figs and hothouse grapes;
The silent vertebrate in brown
Contracts and concentrates, withdraws;
Rachel née Rabinovitch
Tears at the grapes with murderous paws;
She and the lady in the cape
Are suspect, thought to be in league;
Therefore the man with heavy eyes
Declines the gambit, shows fatigue,
Leaves the room and reappears
Outside the window, leaning in,
Branches of wistaria
Circumscribe a golden grin;
The host with someone indistinct
Converses at the door apart,
The nightingales are singing near
The Convent of the Sacred Heart,
And sang within the ****** wood
When Agamemnon cried aloud,
And let their liquid siftings fall
To stain the stiff dishonoured shroud.
3k
I did laundry and sweeped floors
then reorganised all cupboards.
Forks, plates, glasses - one big sheen,
because my mind I can't clean.
Sep 5, 2019
Sep 5, 2019 at 2:59 PM UTC