warnings

KwyjiboKwyjibo Posts: 662
edited April 2004 in Poetry, Prose, Music & Art
sitting alone
alone in a west-facing chair
alone without thoughts or cares

forcing my thoughts
forcing them back on to you
and suddenly there you stood

and I still couldn't tell you
tell you that you saved my life
saved me from my alchoholism that took me every night

and with each step away
away from me you move
thats one more drink I don't refuse

walking down the path
the path we walked a thousand times
my hand tread gently on your side
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.
Post edited by Unknown User on

Comments

  • of_the_girlof_the_girl Posts: 745
    very sad and very to the point and emotionally appealing... although i feel i've never felt quite like this (at least with the alcohol references) i feel i can connect with the speaker of this poem (be it you or someone else) on a different plane. I like this piece. Something about it strikes me.
    "At the touch of love, everyone becomes a poet." --Plato

    www.myspace.com/birdinamitten
  • That's deep.
    Absolute Equality.No more.No less - AHFA
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