Window Pane
I had this.. Dream.
You held my hand--like it was art,
In the other though, you held my heart.
A second later, everything went dark.
I was sitting on the sidewalk--5th Avenue park.
We were kissing under the lampost, you left a mark.
Fade to white even quicker--then a lighter sparked.
You were leaving my house, you were wearing my chain.
And I knew I had to wash my sheets, from that new stain.
But I watched you leave--walking through the soft rain.
On my tongue was your name, but you left all the same.
So I guess that's why they call it, window pain.
[em]
YOU ARE READING
Blind Poets
PoetryPoetry for those who find both comfort and discomfort in the dark. - Em Instagram: @em.g_4 WARNING This book includes references to sensitive topics such as suicide, depression, struggles with mental health and so on.
