Dying In Her Memory
24 October, 2006
Author: William Bill Jones
I wonder if she thinks of me nearly as often as I do her,
The only relief I have is in the bottle I'd once swore away
Sitting there eyes glazed, and the memories flash in a blur
But I as if it were yesterday I remember that day.
The heart I promised to always keep whole broke with ease,
I carried on with myself as though pretending I was ok.
Then my lips soaked in the vodka, Crying alone on my knees,
The tears fall, I kneel there gasping with nothing to say.
I carry on time has passed, but your memory remains.
Drowning myself daily with a pool of thoughts and regret.
Scared as it is my heart will never get used to these pains
But these words are as close as to you as I'll ever get.
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Comments on this poem/writing:
| Meri (71.176.5.213) -- Wednesday, December 5 2012, 03:24 am I could visualize your poem as I read it. Very deep. |
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