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Literature
a poem on my unforgiveness.
I have flooded basins of pages
with poems, pointing to your lonely
in a red only she can pull off.
I cannot forgive your quiet but
I know I would never have done
the same,
I know your words still have my aftertaste and someone who could keep
me so carefully in the dim light of convenience
cannot be hushed from my pulse.
Trust me,
I've tried.
I remember you when I forget I'm happy;
you forget me when you remember you are.
All
1704 deviations
Literature
a poem on my unforgiveness.
I have flooded basins of pages
with poems, pointing to your lonely
in a red only she can pull off.
I cannot forgive your quiet but
I know I would never have done
the same,
I know your words still have my aftertaste and someone who could keep
me so carefully in the dim light of convenience
cannot be hushed from my pulse.
Trust me,
I've tried.
I remember you when I forget I'm happy;
you forget me when you remember you are.
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