|
8 months into the year
by Ava Bluwe have torn out the covering on top of our bed,
the springs inside the mattress are no longer bouncing
and our madness has become an excuse
i'm still holding my engagement ring,
blowing bubbles through the hole
hoping for one of them to never pop
they always do
and i become drenched in regrets
while drowning an unborn love in our sink
for years we held the attention of one another,
creating reasons why we had to meet
and every time i heard a voicemail from you
my face became a lighthouse and you became the sea
i've started painting puzzles
pretending somewhere inside a key is hidden
underneath a garden of tomatoes;
i eat them to find you
there are no clouds today
for me to hang my head on
and i no longer think
you will ever know me again.
09/10/2010 Posted on 09/10/2010
Copyright © 2024 Ava Blu
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Steve Baba on 09/13/10 at 04:18 AM Wow. The imagery is vivid and clear. I really enjoyed reading this Ava! |
| Posted by Matthew Sharp on 09/14/10 at 08:10 PM 'my face became a lighthouse and you became the sea'
Beautiful anology, amazing perspective on a natural process....i love it:) |
| Posted by Anita Mac on 09/16/10 at 03:26 AM I'm a little heartbroken at this, in a quiet sort of way. Your words move, as always. |
| Posted by Meghan Helmich on 09/30/11 at 12:57 AM My favorite part of this is the image of eating the tomatoes. I can just see your red fingertips now. |
| Posted by Blair Meeks on 11/25/12 at 01:55 PM this is beautiful. |
| Posted by Richard Vince on 08/11/20 at 11:10 PM there's a very familiar loneliness to this, almost comforting in a nostalgic sort of way even though it shouldn't be. "my face became a lighthouse and you became the sea" is an amazing line. |
|
