Love, Ophelia.
Love, I found you in the bathtub
there were roses
in the water,
another love letter
on your fingertips. Unaddressed.
I read the words, as my own,
drowning
in reverb
you wrote:
how empty they all seemed without you.
how the days fell at my feet as if
dead, just long stupor-stares
and blank ceilings.
the stars all carved out.
just cheap glitter
on the drunken collapse
of bodies, limbs.
just the stutter
of skin
scraped and scratched raw.
But darling, nothing
is ever
so empty
if you had only stayed
for a while
undressed my lies
saw my love for what it was.
This poem is about:
Me