Where Is She
Alone
I turn in bed
Face,
The empty space.
The warmth is
Gone.
A light that shone
And blinded
My fears.
Staring
Knives for eyes,
They rip my soul,
Apart.
Warmth,
Where are you?
Not enough…
Anything?
No texts or calls,
Even emails.
Put lamar
On,
And sink,
Back into time.
Narcissism,
Thy name is
Poetry.
Im all
I have.
I write
So
I know i
Exist.
Copyright © Chris Grundy | Year Posted 2012
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem.
Please
Login
to post a comment