PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

sit with me

let us talk of what may come to be

tell me lies

sweet as honey

so that i may believe

your words

and the smoke rings you blow



i catch them

waiting for the color to change

as my father use to promise me



I'm at a bridge



again



it seems i am here to often

paying too many tolls

to cross across plains

of stories already told



we throw daggers

with our tongues

catch them and throw them back



again



it seems I'm here to often

addicted to sweet smell

of soap

and summer breeze



drunk

high

stoned



i want to fall into this rabbit hole

loose myself to only myself

and  no one else



never again

a promise i always break



but it seems I'm here to often

knowing i should be alone