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she wasn't about giving
by Morgan D Hafeleshe took a deep long drag - and almost lovingly
blew the smoke in my face.
i heard your name today.
not something i expected and the fire that erupted
burnt my heart again
and i forgot how much i learned - how much i need -
how i wish i could forget...
i hate you.
i listened to her voice drone on. aimless.
i tried to close my eyes.
to block you out. to suck you in
-i pretended you were her cigarette.
stole you with my lips and
murder - memory -
she grinned, smiled stupidly
at me.
i couldn't help but smile back
-why did you-
i laid my head on her shoulder
-thrown away-
and let her take me away from...
-death-
i don't know if you can see me but i
still feel you
pretending to watch over
just like you did then... 10/30/2007 Author's Note:
-i found the razor.
the bath tub.
i found you-
left me alone
Posted on 10/31/2007
Copyright © 2024 Morgan D Hafele
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Anita Mac on 10/31/07 at 05:19 AM Is this an old repost? Maybe just the theme I associate with you... Not to be morbid. Either way, I like it... That contrast of what's going on in your head versus the world around you (myself being one to revel in my interior monologue). Words beautiful as ever... And there's always something about your description of smoking that's alluring... that's all. Much love. |
| Posted by Christina Bruno on 12/28/07 at 11:48 PM deep and cold. very real. nice job |
Posted by Ava Blu on 03/09/08 at 07:15 PM
ah. you commented on a poem of mine, once, and said something about knowing the words so well. about feeling it in your fingertips. about being able to recognize an emotion in a stranger. you didn't exactly say it like that, but i knew what you meant. [and this is what i mean now.]
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