How are you honey?
I see you called...go through all the money?
You called, must be a least running low...
Why else would you?
There is not much left, of what we took or me...
Can you find it in your heart...to let me be?
I'm sober now and for me the sun has set on what we done...
For you I know, it will never be...
Chained to it Sara, not me...
Is there enough "sorrys" in our dark world for me to say?
No... yet I'm sorry for the lives we altered who never saw us coming...
In our reality where sleepless days were ours...
Where we chose who...
Would feed us our due...
Sadly, we chose wrong...as it was never about anything we were...
Just the sadness of what we imagined love could be...
Submerged in the void to tease...
That we were born for anything more then the blur...
Of something that was our cure...
For we were children born of the disease.
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Comments1
'Sadly, we chose wrong...as it was never about anything we were...
Just the sadness of what we imagined love could be...
Submerged in the void to tease...'..
such a mournful relinquishing of that once - all encompassing and fulfilling, presence in our lives
we all, in someway have experienced and lamented
having to endure its unshakeable stain
in our remnant - conceptualisation of love..
a wonderfully worded write and infused with such realism,
brilliantly executed, in my humble opinion dear poet
Thank you so much. My past addiction and the world I once inhabited is a never ending source of material. Luckily I made it out, sadly I often write about who didn't.
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