I miss his hands on my hips,
the drunken state of his lips.
Though I didn't understand his words,
not only because they were slurred,
he made me forget everything I didn't want to remember.
But I knew it would only last until september.
I knew him for one single day, but it was enough to make the memories go away.
For mere seconds,
but now the thought of forgetting beckons.
YOU ARE READING
It's a journal
Poesia''Instead of blades, I use pens, but it is still my blood covering the pages.'' Comment or like if I have helped or inspired you. Also if you are having trouble or you are feeling down, Feel free to talk to me. I might not be able to take the pain...
