deepundergroundpoetry.com

Infidelity

 
Five years ago, there were thirteen months
but you left with only twelve.
Those distances and periods of aloneness
were premature,
they always would've been.

We were rasping through throats
of petrified oracles, falling mute in the dust
with a choice to either die or kill
and I was far too selfish for death.

You wore my unwashed clothes
and followed our old footprints
but only filling half of the paths.
I forgotten how you smelled, and smiled
as a vanilla scent ruptured you.

Your tear-smeared forearm,
only noticeable from the mascara-streams,
sustained half a decade, showing no signs
of forgetting or leaving
and now with kin and dogs
your forearm appears, as if waiting
to be cleaned for the very first time
again.
Written by MrAlptraum (Mr A)
Published
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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