your love is inferior
like cheap wine, bitter
you suck the oxygen out of me
until i am empty again
your hand on the steering wheel
eyes not on the road
i crave collision, instantaneous
we can be particles drifting in the autumn wind, you and i
maybe i will
end up somewhere pretty somewhere
far away from your alluring isolation
or maybe the specks of dust that are us
will be more content
than we could ever be whole
i can't bear you unbuttoning my dress
one more time, i want to crawl out of my own skin
how i long
to be nothing
to be more invisible than air itself
a trace in the wind
you cannot brush your fingers across my skin
like sandpaper
we can forget about everything bad
on impact.

Poem Rating:
Click To Rate This Poem!

Continue Rating Poems

Share This Poem