Fever Burn
Purple days, pastel drawings I
Crumpled and threw on the floor.
I picked them up, unfolded them,
And taped them to my bedroom door.
Life so cruel I tremble in pain in
The rusty colored mornings standing
In the dew.
My eyes burned and I felt feverish
When I thought of you.
A bottle of white capsules in
My hand one night, and while
I stared at them all I could think
About was our fatuous fight.
You didn’t know I almost died
Because when you asked me what
I did, I lied.
Cancer, tropical nights in a small
Town swarming with seagulls and
Buildings empty of a shadow or breath.
Love dealt my way, then spoiled like
Garbage and death.
Days crawling with humidity and dragonflies,
And I wish you could see me the
Way I was before I looked like this.
I’ve ripped up all the pictures, but
It’s the memories I miss.
Whiskey made it so much worse,
But I felt no love or hate. On the
Wagon I white knuckle agony as
I accept my fate.
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment