PoemsBrowse PoemsSlamsFresh DropEchoes
LearnWriting TipsPoetry TermsPoets & ArtistsBooksFor Teachers
ExplorePoetry GenomePoem MapEchoesTake ActionGroups
AboutWrite a PoemDonateSign UpLog In

Virgo Lover


 When the rain has dried on windows, do you think of me?

The aftermath of a downpour

Nothing but a resin left, ugly, tainted

Or do you hire the cleaners out? wipe away any memory, start fresh

New windows

 

Can’t clean my windows. Too high up, too embedded, it’s too unstable

You move on, ‘fine’ as the delft-blue mist that removes any sign of residue

I linger. As spiritless as the white roses that dance their hazy movement

outside my bedroom window, on a mild winter

 

The sky remains blanketed, still in its grey weight.

To think you dirtied me and then rid of me.

Benighted, I was.

You were my Virgo lover, my earth element companion.

Lavender-haired boy, I bared my all to you.

Spoiled so many words, on you.

Now language is dead and you have new windows and I do not and you still revile me.

©All Rights Reserved

Something wrong with this poem?

Share

Replies are closed for this poem.

If you or someone you know is struggling, you are not alone.

988 Suicide & Crisis Lifeline — call or text 988, 24/7. Crisis Text Line — text HELLO to 741741.

Your Poem's Voice

See what makes your poem unique — its voice, energy, themes, and the literary traditions it draws from.

Comments (0)

Comments are closed for this poem.