These are some poems that I have created over the years that I thought I should share with someone.
These poems are based off of people that I find really attractive, so please enjoy.
Normal - you
Italics - them
Slight smut warning.
His old house is a few blocks down that way. Old memories of sleepless nights there come flooding into my mind again. It's not like they weren't haunting me before. I don't feel like I'm in my body at this moment. I feel jaded and tired. This past month has been a nightmare. For days, I felt like I wasn't present in any conversation or social interaction. Right now, stopped at this red light in front of me, I feel his presence leaving me. I want to cry, but I'm too exhausted to. I turn up the volume of one of his favorite songs on the stereo of his car. Every now and then, when I turn my head to change lanes, I catch a whiff of his cologne embedded in the stitching of the leather seats. And every time, it feels like a bulldozer smashed into my gut. It takes me a second to register the light had turned green before the person behind me honks. I drive on past the street that I used to become so excited on because I knew that I would see him soon. Now, it just looks like the a graveyard, similar to the one I buried him in. Only this one contains the grave of our relationship. My chest hurts. I breath in, but it just feels like I'm breathing in black smoke. I exhale, but it just feels like breathing out fire. I pull off to the our ... my ... driveway. I park the car and hit my head against the seat. I don't know what it is, but when I usually sit in this car, I get this glimpse of hope that he's going to open the passenger door and climb on in. I stare at the handle, waiting for it to move and make a loud click. Then, it hit me. It'll never open again. No more bright smile. No more slow, deep rich voice. No more kind eyes. And in this moment, I feel like he has really left me. 1 ... 2 ... 3 ... tears fall from my face. Finally, letting go. Letting him go. While I sit here, in the driveway of our once shared home. Staring at a door handle that will never open again.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
