You once told me that it was better to get up and dance badly than to sit and watch the dancing.
Perhaps that's how we loved.
Badly... But always just enough.
Darling you never heard me calling. The wasted years. The wasted youth. The pretty lies. The ugly truth.
What we want is never simple. We move among the things we onced dreamed. A face, a room, an open book and a table for two. I hold out my arms for you but in the morning my arms ache. That's when I realized, we don't remember the dreams. The dreams remembers us...
I look for your laugh. Trying to find the path back to it between the empty hallways. Listening for your rustle under the stands. Brush of your hair, feeling your eyes on me, and the torn up love letter in your back pocket.
"So You're haunted by her?"
My chest feels like it got hit by a truck.
I need a distraction..
"You could take all the drugs in the world, kiss all the tasty lips you meet, drink hard liquor all night long, and dance to the nyphms of the otherworld , but you would never find the same high you found in her."
- She left a mark on me like red whine on white linen. // ~ Hail
YOU ARE READING
Tired.
PoetryTired. /tʌɪəd/[adjective] 1.In need of sleep or rest; weary 2.Bored or impatient with. A Collection Of Poetry, Deep Thoughts And Short Stories By Yours Truly Highest In Rankings : Trending Mythology Poetrycollection Philosophy Poem Shakespeare...
