PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

I sunk that ship,

The one you built

Out of old promises

when we locked wrists 

The smithereens made fodder

For a witty retort

On growing up that frankly

No one understood

I stuttered every word

And stammered at your picture 

When I said the L word

To a high gloss print 

I miss you like dead dreams

And sing of you often  

Even though 

You always hated that

A life of rounded corners 

Have sharpened my senses

So growing up feels like torture 

To a body lacking vision 

When I speak, it's your voice

And I dream of your teeth falling out

Wishing the future came and went

Without our presence to dull it

I stand in the weather I made

When all I want is to drown in you