Friday, October 21, 2011

Bad Poetry

when it's late at night
I think that I can smell you
sleeping sweetly in the bed beside me

when my mind is free
I think of the times you made me laugh
and stole my breath away

when I pulled myself together,
I thought I'd go unnoticed
until you kicked me in my funny bone

when the sun first came up,
it burnt the tips of my ears
I thought I heard you say my name
as if you longed to be forgiven,

when I dream, I dream of you
I know, even then, that it is just a mirage
smack in the middle of a really big puddle