poem.

6/4/2017

Dancing in an empty room

Fighting back the fog and gloom

Why?

 

That’s how I get down

Yearning for my fog in my hometown

Working like a dog, apparently, far too soon

I go there to dust off my memories with that old foggy broom.

 

I’m so fly

Not like some kind of rap bullshit

Like the kind up in the sky

Lazy ‘ol sack of shit who never quits

I kiss the stars at night and they promise I’ll never die

Fuckin Burnt those lips good from kissing those stars,

not from trying to be one, From the loss of what was “ours”

the last female who commits

But shit. why?

Do I really still think that your love is worth a try?

 

I turn a blind eye,

To time passing by

What a world I’m creating

Through chasing what simplifies

Or, better put, glorifies what stability buys

 

I cry,

in reply.

 

As a gemini, I personify both bold and shy

But time’s numerical locality would imply

There’s no rest for the afflicted

And as they say, yup, you guessed it

No rest for the wicked

Until we close our eyes

For good, or bad,

Why even try to predict it

Why swallow your own lethal dose of powerful sighs

while Returning sweet good night kisses

After hour long drawn out goodbyes.

 

By Sofia C Doria-Quesada