Details |
Meghan Killian Poem
you’re like a fluffy white blanket on a snowy winters eve and I still can’t believe you spent any time next to me. you’re like coming home but that’s too cliche, baby I could live content with nothing but you for eternity. you’re a symphony, a poem, I saw you and just knew. A cappuccino with a perfect swirl a joke delivered with perfect unfurl. You’re captivating, illuminating, and I’m sitting here debating in my mind in my disemobodied soul how I could’ve soiled your soul unintentionally of course I’m drowning in a riptide of remorse I just can’t find any solace all I think about is you our future and our love because one plus one in our case doesn’t just make two it makes a puzzle complete, sugar to make tea sweet so darling what we’re doing is bittersweet I know I’ve presented quite the feat but I don’t know how to stop loving you, and I hope you feel the same way too.
Copyright © Meghan Killian | Year Posted 2017
|
Details |
Meghan Killian Poem
Sunlight pierced through treetops shading the edge of the field where little white flowers grew and warm, itchy grass tickled my bare legs. Your faint melodies played in the background. Purple and blue azaleas and hydrangeas danced around us. I picked all little white flowers and gave them to you. I loved being outside; you loved your music. I dreamt of this often, until you left your music and me along with it.
One night I ran to you desperately-
I want to kill myself.
And you condescendingly demanded to know why
As if I wasn’t allowed to feel that way. But why didn’t you know it was because you stopped loving me? I was bleeding moonlight waiting for brightness to once again penetrate my veins but it didn’t.
Fingers glide effortlessly on the guitar strings, no music sheets, no notes or teacher in front of you, just the song playing on an endless loop, sliding over your piano keys as you teach yourself to play. Every day, letting me watch and learn songs that would soon become my favorites. Lost in a moment, now lost in the memories.
I opened the door and at the stoop were wilted white carnations. You knew lilies were my favorite. A small card attached to the vase. “I’m sorry.” I dumped the contents of the vase on the sidewalk and went inside. I’ll make my own sunlight without you.
Copyright © Meghan Killian | Year Posted 2017
|
Details |
Meghan Killian Poem
Sunlight pierced through treetops shading the edge of the field where little white flowers grew and warm, itchy grass tickled my bare legs. Your faint melodies played in the background. Purple and blue azaleas and hydrangeas danced around us. I picked all little white flowers and gave them to you. I loved being outside; you loved your music. I dreamt of this often, until you left your music and me along with it.
One night I ran to you desperately-
I want to kill myself.
And you condescendingly demanded to know why
As if I wasn’t allowed to feel that way. But why didn’t you know it was because you stopped loving me? I was bleeding moonlight waiting for brightness to once again penetrate my veins but it didn’t.
Fingers glide effortlessly on the guitar strings, no music sheets, no notes or teacher in front of you, just the song playing on an endless loop, sliding over your piano keys as you teach yourself to play. Every day, letting me watch and learn songs that would soon become my favorites. Lost in a moment, now lost in the memories.
I opened the door and at the stoop were wilted white carnations. You knew lilies were my favorite. A small card attached to the vase. “I’m sorry.” I dumped the contents of the vase on the sidewalk and went inside. I’ll make my own sunlight without you.
Copyright © Meghan Killian | Year Posted 2017
|
Details |
Meghan Killian Poem
I don’t know what I want to do. My heart keeps racing I’m pacing facing the wall, staring. Restless, a mess it’s for the best I guess but I’m tired and you’re a liar. Who isn’t these days I’m afraid that’s the way it goes when you’re twenty something. You want to do nothing but your anxiety is trumping your thoughts. It ought not to but it does and we wish for the first time our loves were as it once was but because this is life and everything is fleeting we keep leaving so much in the past. Nothing can last this is cliche and frayed but I’m desperately afraid I might feel this way forever because I am jaded and I prayed but I strayed and played all of the games and now I’m stuck with what I see in the mirror; maybe someday it will become clearer.
Copyright © Meghan Killian | Year Posted 2017
|
Details |
Meghan Killian Poem
i want regret. your regret; i want to bathe in it. And I want your tears to sink deep into your pillow case at night and filter into a tall glass that I drink before bed. I want to consume your regret, eat it up. I want to write like I used to write when I cared about everything instead of articulating nothing. I want to be a professional writer and crucify you on the page and you’ll read it because everyone will be talking and you’ll weep endlessly about losing me, but more predominantly, about wasting five years of my remarkably stunningly innocent self and live with the regret that you turned me into this. With the regret that the only girl you have ever loved not only loathes you, but is disappointed as hell in you. And I will live my fabulous beautiful life in your absence, also in regret, wondering why the hell someone like me would give you the time of day.
Copyright © Meghan Killian | Year Posted 2017
|