And now she’s gone
this time I thinks it sticks
I hope I am not wrong
not letting it hurt
Not this time around
Not giving it thought
Left as we were found
I lost her number
Letting it hang
Her face is blocked
Preventing boomerang
My head feels pressured
Like a crockpot presses
Front and back
Stewed up mess this
Not so much
Hurting right now
Side to side
Avoiding loud
There’s a freedom now
In solitude
A spring in step
Righteous dude
Feeling correct
Focusing on me
The days will tell me
Sacred simplicity
How much she is missed
Then logic takes over
Never meant to be cold
Throwing salt over my shoulder
No comments:
Post a Comment
All criticism welcomed. Thank you kindly