We watched,
Black and white films on the old TV,
With the static turned up,
And your head in my lap.
Audrey Hepburn looks so pretty
In Paramount lights.
I can feel you falling cold,
And I can feel the hurt
Seep through your cardigan,
I can feel the tension build,
The score swell,
My heart break,
As this was never going to end well.
Because this feels as close to perfect as I can get.
And you think this might never happen again.
But we can feel this failing,
Wrong time,
Wrong place
- I guess -
Because neither of us are ready
For something as nice as this.
We can't let ourselves,
Have something this good,
Something so gentle,
Rather that sandpaper affection,
And frayed feelings fucking us both up.
It's going to hurt like hell to end this,
But rather than save ourselves by leaving now,
We'll stay for every minute
Until we're torn apart by circumstance,
And we're no longer a planet.
Is this faded film or
Beautifully shot,
And are my arms still in frame.
I kiss your forehead,
And I ask if we're going to last,
And you just cry,
And pull me close.
So I'll let it go for now.
I'm done.
I'm done.
I'm done.
I promise.
YOU ARE READING
Planets
PoetryPoems about each of the planets (and the sun and moon- they're not planets but just roll with it)
