I've said before that tequila kisses came before real ones.
Real ones came from a girl.
A girl that wanted me.
A girl I wanted.
When she left, gone chasing new adventures.
The kissing was taken over by metal.
Gentle gasps replaced with deep exhales of smoke.
Instead of being rocked to sleep, I took to counting pot smoke sheep.
I do not feel incomplete, but it's striking how quickly who I was with you disappeared.
I make do.
Try and subdue, myself.
To sleep, it takes pot, it takes sheep.
It takes shape as you face and it falls into place for you to haunt me in my dreams.
My soulmate, queen of queens, found too soon at eighteen, so she never can be my everything. She has to leave, like you're supposed to.
I don't want to be all or nothing, but keep battling myself to not regret loving you, because you will always be worth the pain of losing you.
I know you're not gone forever.
I know will be okay.
But my heart is quiet as I wait.
My sounds sound like misbehavior.
You're worth everything in me.
My unforgotten savior.
YOU ARE READING
Poems from the dark
PoesiaTrigger warning. To be polite. These are poems I've written. In all honesty not the good ones. Or maybe they are. But they're not my print published ones. I'm not that brave. :)
