Comfort is what you find
in the red-tinned clouds that rest on the tip of a dimly-lit cigarette
or maybe in the burnt-down forests that are kissing
the pale skin under a man's rainy eyes.
Yet you preferred the one
in the shimmering lakes pooling in my eyes and the words you
so carelessly threw like daggers up to heaven while I resided
to hollow cheeks and empty streets built on cigarette stubs and glass shards.
Now, I dance alone,
following the steps only I know to songs nobody wrote,
wishing I could snap out of it and just walk on my own.
Desperately craving for you to grab me by my shoulders and shake me 'till I breathe.
Throw me in the oblivion of your eyes and let me inhale your words.
Make me fall asleep
because sleep is closer to death and further away from you.
YOU ARE READING
Lighthouse
PoetryA lighthouse is your only hope in the vast ocean and you can only hope the crashing waves won't tear it apart. Poems that I wrote in order to live. Each photo that is accompanying each poem is mine, representing memories which go back years. © Alex...
