Chronic Compulsion

Posted: July 9, 2012 in Poems
Tags: , , , , ,

She stuttered her broken words

Like captured birds

Festering in a cage

They were all that remained of her pent up rage

 

I turn the page

 

It’s a new morning

Broken glass is falling

Cutting my feet

I die a little each time I sleep

 

Our memories weep

 

An affair of the mind

The truth is hard to find

You’re my one regret

A scar that’s hard to forget

 

I pray it’s not permanent

 

A kiss is just a kiss

I hurtle into the abyss

Where light fades to black

I’m reminded of everything I lack

 

Including you and I can’t have you back

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Comments
  1. bibibapka says:

    Yo dawg…that’s deep.

  2. innocent1 says:

    I get that a lot and by a lot I mean every couple of years or so.

  3. bibibapka says:

    *swirls fizzer in wine vase*
    Oooh bubbles 🙂

  4. bibibapka says:

    Of course it’s code for drink. Everything is code for drink. I like to “dust” everyday after work. I “dusted” my entire weekend away.

  5. howdy tnikerbell……………..

  6. haha……dont be concerned…im not looking …i just saw……..afterall thats what pictures are for……

  7. bibibapka says:

    Unlike paisley, which should have never been in fashion in the first place.

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