She’s left me alone
and I don’t know why.
And as the night slips in
I’m speculating.
Is it because I can never
kiss her on the lips?
Or is it that her arms around
my waist make me pull back?
Is it because my lips seal
shut when she asks how I am?
Or is it that I shy away from
the red hot embers of her smoke?
It could be any one of these
and I want to plead with her -
these are not my fault,
even though I’m sorry.
It is not my fault that his hands
were too rough around my waist,
It is not my fault that her cigarette
reminds me of the way he talked at me.
It was never my fault.
YOU ARE READING
silence
Poésiejust a lost teenage girl writing somewhat crappy poetry to try and counteract the demons in her head. // all works are mine unless specified // © wanderingcricket 2014
