Poetry is always the epicenter of my expressions,
My soul’s sole extension
The way I give subvention
To my tension
To give confession to my transgression
But my pen is now empty
The bottle tempts me
I pour my drink to fill
Only to find the emptiness of the glass
Matches the emptiness of the heart
The emptiness of the pen
My mind as blank as paper
My thoughts fleeting as vapor
All I can think is how I miss her
How I miss her voice that’s been gone so long
How I miss the care she would give to me
How I regret that I would forget
Just how much she meant to me
& now I lament what should have prevented
Halving my heart and her heart
Never to be together because I blew it
I blew it
& I can’t stop writing about you, my friend
but there are only so many words
They cannot transform this pain
They only perform for others to read
& that will not make me whole again…
So here’s to the good years poetry has brought me
Here’s to the good memories of you and I
I say goodbye to what once was
Because it just hurts to write
I only long to be numb
Tired of Poetry
This is indeed the bottom when you just wish to exist to feel numb, but ya know what they say about hitting ‘rock bottom’- There’s nowhere else left to go but up! I hope for your return.
How’s it hanging dude? LOL 😀
Not every bottom, done
not every word, been said
line and prose, a simple rose
not every poem
read