My lips trace the outline of a body
That once stood in front of me,
And I continue to think of you
As though you were some kind of miracle.
But you weren't.
Your name, it still hurts
When it crosses my lips,
And the pain you left still lingers
In the depths of my mind.
They always used to say
A broken bone hurts more
Than a broken heart,
But darling they lied.
So I lose myself in the liquor.
To wipe away the memory of you,
To remind myself
You just aren't worth the tears anymore.
That you never were.
And yet,
A bottle of whiskey later
I found myself on your doorstep;
The words I was too afraid to say
On the tip of my tongue.
Because now that I'm washed up,
And so vulnerable in front of you
You'll see how honest
I can love you.
-
{e.o}
YOU ARE READING
The Lost Get Found Poetry
Poetry"Poetry is what happens when for a moment the mind stops working, and all we do is feel" Poetry is my expression. My escape. My therapy. These are works that I have compiled. Some are happy, some are sad, all are 100% pure.
