deepundergroundpoetry.com
Mirage
She's not real
Her skin's not there
As I touch it
Air thickens
Mirages biting at my shoulder
Running along my neck
While I drive
Driven by music
To the beat of notes
Love one's
I find them in my locker
Stuffed in the grates
And in purple trenches
Blocked by repression
Depression in my past
No longer there
Like her
Gone
Just a centerfold now.
Her skin's not there
As I touch it
Air thickens
Mirages biting at my shoulder
Running along my neck
While I drive
Driven by music
To the beat of notes
Love one's
I find them in my locker
Stuffed in the grates
And in purple trenches
Blocked by repression
Depression in my past
No longer there
Like her
Gone
Just a centerfold now.
Published 13th Oct 2011
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