live

KwyjiboKwyjibo Posts: 662
edited March 2004 in Poetry, Prose, Music & Art
the tiles are cold against my face
my last breath pushes heat along with grace
its fog makes a mark
and i trace a heart
its has to end somewhere
I'd better round it off

I can see all I've done
who I've hurt
and who I've loved

and in this second that seems so long
with my whole life in front of me
all that seems important
are the three days I had your heart

and as this fire in my soul regains
my fingers tense and my shoulders strain
I push myself up, dust is stuck to my face
my mouth is dried, by this slight metallic taste

but I know I must live,
there is nothing for me here
but I know I must live
because even though you'll never be mine
being in the same world as you
will do just fine
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

Sign In or Register to comment.