Mest lästa ▸
Blue Balloons
I was hoping you would never change
But you were already on the other side of the page
The perfect sky is grey
You left me alone the 19th of May
I was already broken but what did you do?
This is reality no one will fight for you
The truth is I'm not afraid of losing you anymore
"I'm done "you said then ran out the door.
These clothes I wear to make you jealous
Because of you, I became rebellious
My friends kept telling me "it's not worth it"
On that same day we promised we'd never quit.
All these songs
They only sing,
about what's its like
To love someone,
or the breakups
But none really hit
The one spot in the middle
Which is the most important-
-the during
It sets the mood,
decides your future
Without it...
there's no me and you
I enjoyed peeling your name,
off of my white wall.
I gave you all I had,
you brought little if at all.
Your red letters lay in scraps,
on my otherwise clean gray floor.
Next I get to scoop you up,
and throw you out the back door.
I know you didn’t mean it,
I really just don’t care.
I looks as if you just found out,
you get what you give and that’s fair.
Every time I write some poem about us, my fingers stutter.
the ending lines are always in hiccups.
My heart always chokes my hand;
I freaking can't swallow our breakups.
everything you gave me—
the pen in Dublin
at the Post Office,
your letter back in
London,
your address in
Philadelphia.
You poor bastard,
you'll never hear
from me again.
embers melt down
old moments
tie themselves on
to the present
wine is poured
only for me
it doesn’t matter
we chose this form
the paintings of me
you promised
and the songs for you
that never came
don't matter
a year or 60
is over
old moments
Instead of the classical plucking
of an ex-lover’s Guitar;
Instead of the soft attempts to heal
often shattered dreams;
Instead of pleasing phrases
meant only for sharing;
I am left
with the pounding of dripping faucets
and the stale sound of flowers
dying
in your vase.