West coast smoker
The flutter of your eyelashes,
And simple hugs goodnight.
Sipping on warm vodka,
Holding on too tight.
When I'm with you the world spins,
Your hands are so much warmer than mine.
It's way too early in the morning,
Blood red kisses and I'm fine.
Lately I'm short,
With temper and emotional abort.
Maybe if I have some more tea,
It will magically fix everything.
Every time I begin to heal,
I pull the pins out of their place.
Every time I move forward,
I just spit back in my face.
It's just been so long,
Since I've been gone,
And I'm so done with just
Holding on.
I wish I had you,
Laying in the grass
and the morning dew
Singing songs I wrote for you.
You say that would be your way too.
Emotionally I'm unstable,
Like an unsteady table,
As reassuring as a fable,
And I fucking hate cable.
Soft music reminds me of the sun,
That falls at midnight up north.
The guitar solo has begun,
Music burrows out my core.
Let's zip our sleeping bags together,
Share each other's flannels,
I'll be there no matter the weather,
I'll even bring candles.
Laying in the back of a pickup truck
With Rum and Diet Coke,
breathing you in though my mouth,
Like the pack you just smoked.
Life is like a line of cocaine
Is so bad, but it's so good, even though I'm in pain.
YOU ARE READING
..Sonnets for somebody..
ПоэзияNot actually sonnets, just free verse poetry. These poems are for the words I'm afraid to say to their faces. They're sonnets for somebody, I'll let you decide.
