When an old face you once erased,
Bounds into your arms like a lost puppy,
It knocks over your heart
Cascades pitifully down the side
And pools like blood on polished floors
You know that its a bad move
Taken countless missed calls to hide the fact
Youd rather be seen dead with them
Though not bound in your coffin
Knock four holes in hourglass hands
Nail then together and wait before remembering that PVA peels however superglue sticks
Youve fucked up again
Sempiternally down your cuffs
The memories you wish to replace,
Inked on your papyrus parchment skin
Just needed some breathing room
With a view, and some kind of balcony
French noir and the walls are green
Azelias a pill pastel pink
Was a mighty shame it came with a note.
They were quite pretty anyway.
YOU ARE READING
What He Told Me. Poetry
PoetryI was told to share what I write by a guy. This is what I've done. Some of this is dark. Some of this is the inner workings of what is happening in my life. Im sorry for making you read this
