Puppeteer Princess, Your words stole the flavor from my dinner plate. My favorite meal became crushed tablets and stale cigarettes. You were no longer the high I chased. Love in the Northwest eludes me. Our queen-sized bed soon became a graveyard of expectations. It's funny, you used those acrylic nails to carve my name into a headstone but you could never bring yourself to write something meaningful like, "Forever Loved." I've always been nothing less than a possession. Do you remember when I left, you told me that you would place me in a box next to all of your forgotten lovers? You seem to trespass grief. You had always tried to paint me in shades that were too dark for either of us to see. Despite how much I could ever bleed, this monochrome love was too ugly for you to ever need. Winter sank its fangs into our vacant home. My estranged lover, where will you ever go? Sincerely, Your Graveyard Valentine
Tag: epistolary
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It's how a finger tremors on the trigger;
I try to forget,
but I'll always remember.
Spellbound in Spring,
April became less of a curse.
A reverie of my first love:
roaming through foxgloves,
your olive skin shimmers
under the northwest sunlight.
Do you not feel
this dark dichotomy?
You were terrified by tomorrow
while I buried skeletons
of a petrified past.
You told me
to slow down
and breathe,
but you couldn't perceive
the ghosts in my periphery.
Twelve promises
sowed what we could
never reap,
two strangers shivered
in the same bed
we used to sleep.Sawyer S.
Addict Brain Poetry by Sawyer 