Don’t look for love.
Be love.
the ink in my eyes cries for me when i have no tears and my pupils drip words of pain. the window to my soul is also a portal
By Sara 3 years ago in Poets
it’s hard to forget you when you are written all over my body like black sharpie that even if i scrubbed my body raw would still be so black.
he asked me if i was looking for something when i spent too many nights at the foot of his bed waiting for his cursed touch
he left 18 red roses at my door. i scattered their petals in the same graveyard that his promises lay. flowers. so useless.
yesterday i wore a dress. not sweatpants or ripped jean shorts. yesterday i drank my black coffee out of a tall wine glass
when i say miss you i do not mean your hair or your eyes or the song of your voice and the way your fingers dance over my body.
it is not a choice i made to have the words choke me like a gag order around my throat. i did not ask for words that clog my nares
i will die wanting you. i will breathe my last breath with your name on my lips the taste of you still lingering on my tongue.
I am an addict. Pill bottles spilling with images in my head. I am a slave to the voices That eat away at my brain like acid
you left 3 lines of white powder and a pit in my stomach. when you left my throat closed regurgitating the taste of you
i let you use me. don’t judge. i did it for the poetry. i did it for the darkness in me that needs to be fed in lies
On the days my socks are soft And I write about the smell of coffee I miss the days I walk barefoot On the warpath of my rage.
