deepundergroundpoetry.com
to the Gods who let me be dumb
Why did he have to smell so good
Why'd he have to make me laugh so hard
When the world is falling apart around us
Why'd his hands have to feel like coming home
Why'd that area where his shoulder and neck meet
Still feel like the space where I belong...
Why'd his voice have to drip with sarcastic honey
Why'd he have to have those perfectly shaped lips
And why do they fit perfectly against mine
I'm too old to be getting that drunk
Too old to be in alone and in bed with him
Too old to have his hands gripping mine above my head
Because the gods know that I am a coward
And I couldn't have kissed him sober
Why'd he have to make me laugh so hard
When the world is falling apart around us
Why'd his hands have to feel like coming home
Why'd that area where his shoulder and neck meet
Still feel like the space where I belong...
Why'd his voice have to drip with sarcastic honey
Why'd he have to have those perfectly shaped lips
And why do they fit perfectly against mine
I'm too old to be getting that drunk
Too old to be in alone and in bed with him
Too old to have his hands gripping mine above my head
Because the gods know that I am a coward
And I couldn't have kissed him sober
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
likes 6
reading list entries 0
comments 7
reads 552
Commenting Preference:
The author encourages honest critique.