Smells Like Soap:
I have trouble writing about things that aren't tragedy
Because for the longest time tragedy has been me.
His tide of nothing ate me whole
And I don't blame him, I blame myself.
In the grand scheme of it all
There is no one else left to carry those feelings.
Or maybe lack of,
It wasn't black and white like falling out of love
Because a part of my soul,
Will always be thankful for that time you made it whole
The only difference is
You aren't the one filling the gaps anymore
Because I'm tired of waiting for a settled score
And a day that will never come.
So for once I stood under the shower stream
And the steam fogged the glass I write words in
And the room smelt clean.
The room smelt like soap
And I felt like me.
And I didn't have to let you go
Because I already know
You were gone long before I could even pull my hand away.
And that's okay.
Because the room smells like soap
And I blow bubbles out of hope.
~J.K.M.
YOU ARE READING
2. A Definitive (Poetry)
PoetryNot just poetry for humanity. Poetry for me too. An array of poetry displayed in raw light. "For what it's worth, even words can explain the complications in ones head if you find the time to discover the right sentences." ~J.K.M.
