you see
i wanted to start this
by saying
that i love you
but by then it'd already
be too late.
you see by then
the words would
sound like
someone drowning,
like someone gasping,
like someone
groping their heart for
love,
you see even now
the words are desperate,
even now
people are taking off
their feet and
tossing them onto power lines.
but i love you,
you have to know that
i love you even now that
people are drowning,
and people are gasping,
and people
are groping their hearts
for love.
you see i wish
i could tell you why i love you
but you have yet
to teach me some things.
take me home and
teach me how to craft
my father's fists
into bouquets of flowers,
teach me how to shove my
fists into my mouth
when i want to tear the world in two,
teach me how to drown,
take me to the bathroom sink
and show me the
bottle of pills.
you see
i was attracted to you because
i could hear the knives
shoved in your wrists
wailing like a wounded love,
and when we came close enough
the two of us
sounded like music.
you know
i still miss you,
your voice is still echoing
in the memory
of my eardrums and to think
i thought
you could teach me how
to breathe the
life into my mother's lungs
and suck the depression from
her smile, some
days you are vodka
soaking every last shred of joy.
so no, i do not
wish i started this with
the words
i love you,
because it's not true
anymore.
YOU ARE READING
seams and stitching ♡ published
Poetry"this is your kind of story. no one is the good guy-- no one is the bad guy-- the blame shifts from monster to monster and in this place everyone bares their teeth." [featured. highest ranking: #6 in poetry.]
