I think thats what hurt the most,
the fact that I couldn't do anything....and the fact that you made it this waythe idea that I will never understand why
because its very likely I won't ever see you againmaybe at a party or a show....
but even then you will look at me through my soul like im any other stranger
like we didnt sleep together
like our emotions did not weep togetherand you might stumble upon the thought of me
but thats all it will be is a stumble
you know how to pick yourself up
if you even fall at all
if I even bare to call it wont go through because you made sure of that
and even if it does you wont call backyou convinced yourself of things far beyond how I truly feel
you believe that wealth is what will make your self-inflicted wounds healbut I miss you
if that even means something now
if it even counts to say .
I just hope I can see you again one day
and hold you
and reassure you that I have no other desire than to be here.
I hope I can let my guard down enough to really show you how much I care.I can write scriptures on this paper
and not be able to recite it,
but I can be in solace and loneliness will creep into my spirit
and I know I wont be able to fight it.
why does these thoughts mock me when the night end?
// e.b.
YOU ARE READING
DIRTY LAUNDRY
Poetryjust another underrated poetry book, a poetic photograph of the saddest months of my life from Jan 2016- May 2016 ***BEWARE PROFANITY***