Honey Please Come Home
Your image, I still see when I gaze at the clouds,
Your voice, I still hear when the wind blows,
I see your petite hand prints on foggy windows.
I still see your love flaming when I turn on the stove,
The memories are much to eat,
Your still in the reflection of my bath water,
smiling at me waving in the wave,still against
my skin, your wet touch enveloping me.
This still bothers me, so I drain all the water from the tub ,
and stand but I still drown, your still hitting my head,
shooting from the shower head, I ran out the shower,
I slipped and hit my head,crawled to the bed, and
laid in the form of your arms ,legs and head,
you left an impression in my bed.
I rolled over to the side were I always
held you from,I couldn't bare to sink in your
shape I had to escape. Running to the kitchen for
a beer or two, with a beer in one hand and the other
against the kitchen counter, not knowing what
I need to do, knowing what I want to do,forget about
you. My inner voices says I won't let you, why? because
she is apart of you. I guzzled the other beer and dialed
her number with fear, she picked up and I said honey
I need you here, she giggles and says it sounds like
you been drinking over there,was it the beer that I
left over there? I said Yes along with all the other traps
you left here. She asked what traps?
I say, never mind that and come home,
my image is incomplete. Come home.
Copyright © Elliott Bowe The Drunken Poet | Year Posted 2012
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