PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

It’s been 4 years, and it still feels like I can’t breathe.

You held my head underwater when you told me that you were leaving 

And I have been stuck in that basement, sitting on that old creaky bed

With the misplaced spring

Looking out at the wooded walls, wishing we had carved in our names

But that can never happen,

Because you stole my heart and took it with you.

You left me, still waiting for you to come home and hold me 

Asking me how my day has been,

And if I was thinking about you.

We planned to move to Boston, 

To see the world and build an empire, 

Holding each other’s hands when it seemed 

That everyone else wanted to cut ours off.

The King to my Black Queen,

You had a blank space on the back of your right arm,

Wishing to compliment me

In ink we would wear the scars of our devotion…

And I can’t seem to forgive myself for throwing that bag across the room

The last piece of glass shattered on the ground

Like my mother to my father,

Little girl sitting at the top of the stairs at the chaos

I watched myself through her eyes,

And,

That was the best love to consume me.

You consumed me and now I can breathe nothing but your scent

And God damn I feel like my cells are exploding with desire for more.

I crave that scent and never want it to stop.

If I could grab a single blade of grass for every single second I could have left

With you would be an eternal world of deserts.

You are worth all of the pieces of Red Starbursts in my package.

You were the french vanilla creamer in my coffee on Sunday

Because that’s when you’d take us to coffee.

And now I have a caffeine addiction because every day I drink it

Hoping to feel your lips with every sip

Even if it burns me.

I should have never let myself get so deep

Because I forgot what it meant to love anyone

Because all of my heart is in your back pocket, 

And God only knows with that way you were with 

Losing the things in your pockets.

I can’t seem to remove your memories from my dreams

On a constant loop of this autonomous interlude

That intrudes into the little bit of happiness I seem to fathom.

You made me into a phantom, and I can’t seem to bring my heart 

Out of this dark box top dock padlocked deep in the sea

Where you made sure that your face would be in every wave

That would curse my eyelids.

Because all of these tears I shed

Are still with your name attached to them.

And it’s been 4 years.