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june eleventh
by Ava Blu
nothing really changes as we become older
we watch the sun rise and fall,
we play with ourselves when no one is looking,
we fumble
and we fail
and through it all
life feels more strange
and lonelier each moment;
nothing really changes
as you hold my hand
as you grab her ass
as you pretend to be
and all i can do now
is accept the lies.
06/12/2010
Author's Note:
"tell me that you'll open your eyes"
Posted on 06/12/2010
Copyright © 2024 Ava Blu
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by V. Blake on 06/12/10 at 06:51 PM I see the title as a summer's day, I look outside and note the beautiful weather, and I even got a chuckle out of that third line. I was all prepared for a bright, nostalgia-inducing kind of poem, and all of a sudden I was blindsided by the blues. This poem has teeth. P.S. I am still alive. |
| Posted by Anita Mac on 06/14/10 at 03:14 AM ... Actually fairly well suits the New England weather. That acceptance... ugh. (Though, well written, bien sur.) |
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