Waning Youth, Waxing Reality

Tiffany is sprawled out, halfway in satin sheets

Her legs dangling over the side of our bed

Pillows stained with eyeshadow

Wine glasses kissed by her seduction

I lift them carefully and tuck her in

Ignoring the incoherent mumbles

Dancing through her stained lips

Black with the bitterness of my tongue

The spaces we descended into last night

We were so high, so long, so gone

Now I wonder where she even came from

Rip the needle out of my veins

Cause I don’t want this life anymore

Her love is willful admittance we both failed

To ever reconcile we were unloved as kids

So the porn became too little, too quick

My right hand has been too many places

And I vowed to find a real woman to finish

I threw my bed frame out apartment window

Burning every magazine and clipping I owned

The audacity of my mind to be filthy

My brain craved every waning desire

Desperate to fill my heart up with another

So I found her on the street, and took her in

But one day when I came home, she was gone

No reason, no closure,

But a note

Waning. Waxing. Our passion. Your need.

I cannot stop you. But I can save you time.

You are in constant search for a light.

You are a dark room. You want clarity.

Find yours. Find it everywhere but your eyes.

Angered, without reason, without clues

Once again, another wanderer of my path

Storming into the night, I found her street

Where I first allowed her to leech my heart

Tell me she wasn’t like the others

Yet here I am, alone and ailing

If only there was a fountain of youth

To cure the destabilizing worms inside me

Stilling the acidic torment of my mind

I'm interested in hearing what you have to say

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s