The first cigarette bud that ever stuck from my mouth was the untrue fantasy that you were going to stay forever.
And she pulls in
The very air that longed to escape all running back down her throat like gazelle in a stampede.
She keeps her eyes open watching her very existence diminish before her .
The very first tip of drunkenness in my breath was when I decided to stay up till midnight sipping my life away on broken promises.
She releases the last breath of consistency and swears that there's not where she'd rather be. Bitterness stained her mouth like an unforgiving after taste .
The last time I saw him was at a traffic light. He apologized and ran away to more adventures never looking back to see if I was okay.
She wore his favorite perfume that reminded him of daffodils. Pushing him one last drive away from the party staggering helplessly but this time silently.
The first time I was alive
The first time he refused to wake up
YOU ARE READING
Midnight Music
PoetryBeing a poet or even a writer is a means of survival and a therapeutic process of self-expression. This is a compilation that identifies the growth of individuals which showcases the complexities of life, especially that of a teenager. The protagoni...
