she cut her hair to look like mine
bangs cut messy framing MY blue eyes
i hope it falls in the same way
listlessly slipping into some void between my bed and your heart
some folly to leave me alone, you clutching my thigh, telling me its how it has to be
oh thank god, you can take her away from me too
to leave the two people i loved to love one another
the moon looks less lustrious than i once remembered
my hand is getting cold, the beams leave it understated
my picture is gone from next to your bed
you people reading now think its some metaphorical phrase representing my teen angst
well it's fucking true
the rose garlands used to be an altar to my memory
now its her picture on your bedstand, you looking into her eyes as i talk to you over cordless phones
sobbing my insides to dirt, like how you see me
like how i could wish i saw you
the morning stars leave wake to me being single
laying alone with burnt cigarette marks climbing up my legs
pounding in my head, eyes swelled shut
so this is what it's like to be sixteen, and to love and not be loved in return. |
Submission Name: clarity on a nightstand.
