deepundergroundpoetry.com

the problem

Last night you said I have a problem
but I am no longer your problem.
You washed your hands of me
but the nail holes must bleed anyway.
You were so good at crucifying yourself.

Old habits die hard.

I saw you with my replacement;
she doesn't have my problem.
She drinks diet coke; I know the glass.
She doesn't avoid bridges
because a voice always says
it's time to jump.

Her wrists don't have scars.

Your arms circle her waist.
Lips graze her ear,
moving in whispers.
I see steam-
warm breath in December,
I wonder,
if my problems
are pouring from your lips
into her too.
Written by beautiful_accident
Published
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
likes 7 reading list entries 0
comments 9 reads 1228
Commenting Preference: 
The author encourages honest critique.

Latest Forum Discussions
POETRY
Today 2:47am by case28
SPEAKEASY
Yesterday 10:24pm by Ahavati
SPEAKEASY
Yesterday 9:01pm by Isgyppie_
SPEAKEASY
Yesterday 8:55pm by Hatful-of-Hollow
POETRY
Yesterday 8:49pm by Betty
POETRY
Yesterday 8:24pm by ajay