The Other Woman
Now that she has even her all she would need to erase the traces of the offering made
She will have to make the words spoken evaporate into thin air
She will have to remove the musky smell of togetherness from the sheets and curtains
She will have to clean out the tell tale stains of coffee spilt on his bed and her toothbrush from his bathroom closet
Playing the pretend game she will lock it all up in her dream box as if it never really happened
As if she was never really here or anywhere
As if she really did not exist.
She will have to make the words spoken evaporate into thin air
She will have to remove the musky smell of togetherness from the sheets and curtains
She will have to clean out the tell tale stains of coffee spilt on his bed and her toothbrush from his bathroom closet
Playing the pretend game she will lock it all up in her dream box as if it never really happened
As if she was never really here or anywhere
As if she really did not exist.
Labels: poetry
Selected by Anonymous |
11:53 |
3 Comments:
aah. an entire life wasted at the mercy of another.
Nice, but perhaps it could be improved by brevity.
J.A.P.
I like this. Would benefit, though, from a spaced-out 'look'. Try formatting
- annie
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