I once owned a brown blanket with Goodwill stamped on it…
I wrote 75 Months Later after discovering someone again…..wait for it…..75 months after we parted ways. It was a pretty pathetic way to express my utterly pathetic feelings about someone who gave so much only to receive so little from me.
75 MONTHS LATER
It was the inside of midnight that thought of you the most.
…through cobwebs of our past life,
…under brushes of lost hopes forgotten,
you somehow managed to make it to me.
Some sort of ghost from Faraway skilled in translucency.
The morning somehow remembered your voice
and felt the warmth of your breath
covering me like a Goodwill blanket in my most confusing time.
I sadly only know where I should be
when only playing make-believe.
The evening imagined the scent of your hair.
How it must have lingered in the air
waiting for the perfect moment to remind me
that you were once around.
Your voice now, of course, silent sound.
The night never forgot to find guilt as it should.
It even knew that the thought of your touch
would melt away all my rational reason.
Leaving me spent upon sheets that were wet.
Needing a moment to catch my breath.
…and eventually midnight thought about you again
while never forgiving me
for this endless cycle
I’m putting it
through.
© 2009 by Feral Child
