You spoke,
Your truth
And it tasted like vermouth
Somewhat sour
But with youth
You thought he felt your truth
Maybe you’re the lie
The one they always deny
Because you carry too much time
That brings them a reason why
They should go inside
Themselves
And question why
And that wouldn’t be ideal
To a world that could otherwise appeal
To a man who dates younger
And makes himself blunder
In hopes she’ll grow fonder
But always will wonder
About the girl next door
Then maybe he will realize
The woman he idolized,
Was the one who spoke wonders
Of the life they could have shared
The beauty in the despair
The passion of a kiss
Something I’ll always miss --
A conversation long overdue
I know I’ve always known you
And yet you live in your past
Missing a present that won’t last.
About the Creator
Veronica
I am the moss silken on watered stones, rooted deep in rich soil. Earthen creature, I am the night sky -starry and strayed from the forgotten path of poets - I am, the chatter from the iron rails rattling as the train carries itself home.
Spiders
I have a spider in my shower. I have taken a shower in there three times despite this knowledge and it haunts me between each drop of water, each brush against the wall or showerhead. I do not know where it lurks. I saw it once and since then it has maintained a steady hidden location, to which my eyes only half-heartedly search.
By Logan Stanislaw7 days ago in Poets
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