PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

one thing I know-

this is not the way we should have done it

pull me in

tell me this is not the end

eighty degrees in october

juxtaposed with

waking up crying and

your car around a tree

and there it is

an ending that I wrote in the way my hand shook

all my mistakes curved into the bleat of a honked horn

all your blood on the floor

of the two bedroom I will live in

this is not the way we should have done it

voice shuddering when I know the right answer

the right decision you have made

but the wrongness seeps into me

the way I sink into your shoulder in bed

I remember saying your name in this light

not quite a beg–

if I had gone that far

is there something else I could have asked

this is not the way we should have done it