i scream for you,
i call.
i hail you like a monument,
so tall.
i grip your hand, forget to steady my feet,
i fall.
you know what you're doing, spinning glittering words and sparkling tales,
you enthrall.
i listen, i listen, i listen, like
a doll.
the words turn sharp, an aftertaste of bitter
alcohol.
tell me, promise me, lie to me, you won't be my
downfall.
forgive me when i build a wall,
if small.
i should not, cannot trust you
at all.
and yet i let you blanket me, piercing as
snowfall.
- a. // 6.23.21
YOU ARE READING
shoebox | a poetry collection
Poetry" 𝑖'𝑚 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝒔𝒉𝒐𝒆𝒃𝒐𝒙 𝑢𝑛𝑑𝑒𝑟 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝒃𝒆𝒅. . . " - a collection of poems written by yours truly - " . . . 𝑐𝑜𝑙𝑙𝑒𝑐𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝒅𝒖𝒔𝒕 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝒎𝒆𝒎𝒐𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒔 𝑎𝑙𝑖𝑘𝑒 . "
