it's just a poem.
[mal. sna#17. lb&lb.]
sydney you beautiful angel keep it real up there in heaven. rip #17. 4/9/08.
i'm dreaming about
you. in this
dream we are so
amazingly alive and
you are happy
and holding me, in
love. we smile too
widely and you always
whisper dirty things in
spanish into my ears.
in the
morning, i will
frown too deeply and
ask you twice if you
are okay. you
will look me in the
eye and fake a smile
and promise me
twice that
you are. i don't think
i'll believe you.
ii.
i'm dreaming
about you. in
this dream you are not
dead but alive (the
only other
alternative) and you
pass me in the hallway and
tell me that my outfit is cute
because that's
the kind of person you
were.
taken aback because
we don't talk, i say, "thanks,
yours is too," and
keep walking. (your outfit is
way, way cuter than
mine.)
in the morning, i
will start my car and
glance at the
dime sitting in it, reminding
me of you. when i
pass your intersection i
will blow kisses to the sky
and ask god to keep
me okay.
iii.
i'm
dreaming about
you. in this dream you
are not alive but
dead because you put
the gun into your mouth.
i drink so
much alcohol that i
pass out. but i do
not forget the blood,
not even drunk.
in the morning,
i will want to call
you, to knock on the locked
door to your heart
again
and ask you if
you are still
okay. instead,
i will lie in bed, acutely
aware of just how
alone i am
and i will
cry and cry because
my love was never
ever good enough
for you and now you're
ruining all of my
poems.
iv.
i'm dreaming about being
alive.
in this dream everything is
blue and purple and
there are no speed limits
and no one dies
and alcohol only makes me feel
good, just like your
arms around me.
in the morning, i will
wake up
and write this poem
and i don't think that
i will be okay.
Poetry by MiVidaDeEpílogos.
Read 1007 times
Written on 2008-08-02 at 19:10
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[mal. sna#17. lb&lb.]
sydney you beautiful angel keep it real up there in heaven. rip #17. 4/9/08.
Okay?
i.i'm dreaming about
you. in this
dream we are so
amazingly alive and
you are happy
and holding me, in
love. we smile too
widely and you always
whisper dirty things in
spanish into my ears.
in the
morning, i will
frown too deeply and
ask you twice if you
are okay. you
will look me in the
eye and fake a smile
and promise me
twice that
you are. i don't think
i'll believe you.
ii.
i'm dreaming
about you. in
this dream you are not
dead but alive (the
only other
alternative) and you
pass me in the hallway and
tell me that my outfit is cute
because that's
the kind of person you
were.
taken aback because
we don't talk, i say, "thanks,
yours is too," and
keep walking. (your outfit is
way, way cuter than
mine.)
in the morning, i
will start my car and
glance at the
dime sitting in it, reminding
me of you. when i
pass your intersection i
will blow kisses to the sky
and ask god to keep
me okay.
iii.
i'm
dreaming about
you. in this dream you
are not alive but
dead because you put
the gun into your mouth.
i drink so
much alcohol that i
pass out. but i do
not forget the blood,
not even drunk.
in the morning,
i will want to call
you, to knock on the locked
door to your heart
again
and ask you if
you are still
okay. instead,
i will lie in bed, acutely
aware of just how
alone i am
and i will
cry and cry because
my love was never
ever good enough
for you and now you're
ruining all of my
poems.
iv.
i'm dreaming about being
alive.
in this dream everything is
blue and purple and
there are no speed limits
and no one dies
and alcohol only makes me feel
good, just like your
arms around me.
in the morning, i will
wake up
and write this poem
and i don't think that
i will be okay.
Poetry by MiVidaDeEpílogos.
Read 1007 times
Written on 2008-08-02 at 19:10
Save as a bookmark (requires login) Write a comment (requires login) Send as email (requires login) Print text
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Nick Matherne |
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WildGoose |
