PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

I am marked,
stained, by you.
The ghost of your presence
shrouds my sight,
filtering everything
through your haze.
Your stench clings to me,
has seeped through
to the roots of my being,
and the sour
cologne of your spirit
brings stinging bitter tears to my eyes
that have nothing to do with
fancies of love or nostalgia.
The black and bruise-yellow swirls
of memory tint my heart,
painting a granite memorial
to your lessons of truth and trial.
I crave a blade,
strong enough to excise
you completely from my self
to slice neatly through the webbing
tangling you tightly inside me.
Carving out a spot of peace.
At last.