I carved my soul into your back
with nails and expectations grown
far too long.
And yet, you claim it was someone
who might have loved you
a little bit more.
Your name, your voice, your scent
still makes me shake
like an overdose of caffeine
or maybe something a little
more potent.
No amount of nicotine
or THC or LSD
can make me forget
the night I fell in love,
or even make me want to.
Yes, I come crawling back to you,
but only after the withdrawal becomes worse
than the habit.
I find myself wishing
on numbers and stars
to be the muse for
your song.
But I'm only a replacement
for the one that makes you sing.
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Comments
--
BISOUS!
--
I'm just sittin' here in this sty
strewn with half written songs
taking one breath at a time
not much goin' on...
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