casanova.
you lied. you liar.
where are you?
i lost a pair of earrings,
either in the yellow hoodie in your laundry
or on the dining room table.
they look like teardrops, crystals,
big and white.
suddenly struck by the silence in my head,
the silence, in my head.
i lost a notebook
beside the big screen tv in the living room,
don't read it please,
but can you put it away when you find it?
don't read it.
you used to be like a banana
because you were cute and funny,
like the comment you made
when all the muffins disappeared,
but now you're like a banana
because you're bruised and your teeth are yellow
and the curve of its end is like the curve
of your hips when you move. slut.
how hollow are these walls
that the twang of your hand against
the string of your guitar, should echo here
amongst the water,
and shampoo and conditioner.
rose hips, when you find me
breathing against the tiles.
the tiles have no pictures here.
how hollow are these walls, what
was this house built on.
i've lost why i began this.
the silence in my head.
philanderer, is that what they call you?
you ugly whore, i hate you.
casanova. you liar.
2 comments:
i LOVE this poem. You are very very talented!
i like this so much, you have such a great writing style. They are modernly poetic, i know i said that before but thats all i think of, like in the future your work will represent our culture.
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