the simplest good we've done
is quit while we're ahead
the shovels have slipped from our hands
dirt sits in the back of my throat
undisturbed
until something resembling a sob
racks my body.
you place your hands on
either side of my face
fingers softly tapping my temples
as though i'm keys on your typewriter
and you whisper your apologies
in the gentlest voice fashioned to
break apart my skidding thoughts.
but i can't help thinking,
why are you the one apologizing?
you haven't done anything
we were just messing around
with the Scythe
and it was me who flirted her way
dangerously into oblivion
and it was you who helped
drag me out of it.
. . . but i guess you'll never stop
saying, "sorry," will you?
the simplest good we've done
is given a proper burial
to our demons.
they can't touch us
anymore.
YOU ARE READING
little blue flowers
PoetryA collection of original poetry by Ella Petrichor. Highest Rank: #152 in Poetry (6/14/18) **COMPLETED** ::Excerpt:: "betrayal along the seams" A melancholic pallor lining her face She stood in the doorway Beating the shit out of that old rug As thou...
