1. 20:42 12th Sep 2010

    Notes: 5

    Tags: my poetry

    untited

    lying in bed i imagine bouquets of roses (red, not yellow), bare feet in the sand (cool, not hot), little boxes with big price tags (it reminded me of you) and i feel a little sad and sick inside - the tangibles of love, worn on my friend’s fingers and grasped between their hands; they feel misty inside my stomach, drifting and dragging through my organs like the moments before bile bursts. i think of you and know you don’t love me, and that you haven’t for a long time, but on a sunny summer afternoon i cried in a park and you offered me your sleeve, no explanation asked, and let me blow my nose on the shirt you wore for the rest of the night. you loved me then, in that moment, no roses or rings necessary.

     
    1. marissaisgod posted this