deepundergroundpoetry.com

Remnants of drift wood on the tide; maybe it could be a tree

You left    
no note  
no goodbye
just the smell of stale cigarette  
only evidence you even existed    
the torn up panties still    
tied to the bed head    
where you used them to bind my wrists    
I inhale the charred remanants    
of sex    
followed by an echo of harsh breathing    
wondering if my heart would fucking quit    
a wild fire    
a hurricane    
a rare moment when all that existed    
was you setting fire to oceans    
   
even the thought of you stirs me    
I need to wipe it clean    
staring at the glow    
of other windows    
their shadows playing marionettes    
as I search for one more torrid line    
to bring you back    
   
we weren't meant to last    
wild fires destroy everything    
but I'm  still searching for that love poem    
the one that doesn't pull your clothes off    
and ransack your lust    
but makes you want to stay    
watch the sunrise    
feed eachother fingers of toast    
and believe a sunset is more  
than another day of our lives    
we'll never get back
Commentonly
Written by Commentonly
Published | Edited 26th Sep 2019
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JohnnyBlaze
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