i found my fingers
trying to grip mountains,
a pen and some poems
and i admitted to myself
you hated the fact i wrote,
words i knew and all their meanings
i rub my hand across my cheek,
it's fresh and soap-scrubbed
there isn't a trace of you there anymore
first time i have thought of you
and didn't cry
Comments
WOW!
I wish it was I who wrote this.
I love this statement it rings so true.
"i rub my hand across my cheek,
it's fresh and soap-scrubbed
there isn't a trace of you there anymore"
If it's true for you, then I am happy for you.
Great write short and to the point well done Girl
Eddie C.
True in this instance
Thanks Eddie, yes the person this was too did take some scrubbing but eventually things do work out the way they are meant too I think. Appreciate the comment.
Oh!
Oh!
lol
Marie, I've missed these :)
Missed
Well, if I can post nothing else here I can at least post my monosyllabic comments to your poetry! :-D
chuckles
And I will smile everytime you do and I am sure eventually Andrew will sort it out, I am keeping the faith and besides that, here I think I am re-inspired with new stuff, I have quite a bit to post, just wanted some old favorites here for the first month or so along with some short new ones :)