The Warmth of My Being
What is there to say
When there’s red
Running down your body
Like a downpour
Blindingly searching
For a storm drain
And the comfort you seek
Is looking back
At you
Like a colorful painting
Being stripped
To a blank canvas
The fear
In our pupils
Were mirrored
Yet my blood
Was wet
On my hands
You fiddled
With your jacket and keys
Like the excuse to leave you wanted to find
I was
Naked with the goosebumps
Rising in the draft
Under
The dark golden glow
Of the kitchen light
Clutching
Myself like a blanket
While you hurried out the door
Leaving me with the warmth
Of my being
Pulsing out of my mind
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
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
