Google photos can be such a bitch... Highlighting memories I never even missed. Those pictures from 2018 can kindly fuck off... But honestly it's my fault for not deleting the lot.
Category: My Poetry
Hands
Those hands exist as delicate etchings scribed deep inside my mind... And none like yours I'm sure to ever find.
Conductor
If you controlled the train and I laid down on the tracks... Would you reach for the brakes? Or just sit back and relax?
Drowning
If I close my eyes and hold my breath,
I can imagine myself back besides you.
Within that moment I’m back
floating in your scent,
drowning in your touch,
and backstroking in your presence.
But as soon as I relax
and try to take a breath,
I’m sucked back into the present…
Once again left gasping for air.
Ritual
You have become my mind's daily ritual. My silent reminder and sobering remembrance of everything I did.
Street Lights
Beauty is raindrops on my windshield collecting pigments from wet street lights... Projecting a palate of neon colors into a very bitter dreary night.
White Knuckle
I let my eyes unfocus and blur at the sides... As I numbly follow familiar white road lines. Soon my face flushes and I tighten my grip... As I wonder what would happen if I let the steering wheel slip.
Glitter
As soon as my palm opened... Our glitter became dust. Now everything that sparkles... I know can combust.
Serenity
I remember a morning when you were still here... You were sitting with a cigarette while chasing a beer. You were watching the rain pour through the porch screen... Looking so lost, yet so damn serene.
Cold Hand
That moment you walk into your patient's room and she's visibly dead... And the granddaughter who is holding her hand looks at you and mouths "help me" through tears... And you realize that she's been holding her dead grandma's cold hand for twenty minutes while the rest of her family chats in the corner... Because she just didn't know how to tell them.
AO Poetry 
You must be logged in to post a comment.