sad bed.

KwyjiboKwyjibo Posts: 662
edited February 2005 in Poetry, Prose, Music & Art
A giant foam mattress,
lying on the floor.
It used to be our hideaway,
we kept each other warm.

How I long, for that time.
Steam rising in the cold.
Your memories flake off the walls,
like paint thats stale and old.

Its only in that bed,
that I ever miss you.
So I'll just have to learn to,
never go back there again.
The most remarkable thing about you standing in the doorway, is that its you, and that you're standing in the doorway.

I write down good reasons to freeze to death in my spiral ring notebook. But in the long tresses of your hair--I am a babbling brook.
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