Poems from 15cfisk
in the fourth month i was still wishing it would work
rusty pennies in the hand of a tender heart must be worth more than a cent
maybe...
maybe it feels like
looking down at the rope that holds you
and realizing it's only made of thread.
if she loved me,
why would she choose...
perfect polaroids, tucked carefully into corners of my memory
her, barefoot and silhouetted by the bathroom light
her, kissing my cheek in...
damn right, i’m falling and i’m spending the distance complicit
in thinking and wishing for better days, older days, newer days, you-er...
she left and i stole her favorite color
powder blue is mine now.
too pretty, too special to get stuck in the sap of last year’s memories...