Bloody Awful Poetry
Copyright© 2024 by A funny bowl of custard
Chapter 3 9 January 09
9 January 09
I do my best not to think of you
Another day you’ve infected
I mourn something so long ago lost to me
I don’t know why I can’t let you go
An anniversary of two
Souls finally connecting
My love aches endlessly
The world is a shade darker to show
How much it misses you
Roosting in an unkept tent
On a frozen day
Spots of white dot the landscape
I should move on; escape
The guilt, the need to pay
You’d want me to forgive myself
I know that’s what you meant
But I’m incapable
So deftly unable
To forgo this ache
From your absence
To feel the quake
Of your absinthe
I grieve for you
Even as I loathe myself
Our joy and pain
Still burns its refrain
Into my blood, so true
I grieve, for the hand dealt
I always grieve
I’m pining for my end
Equestrian the love flashing in your eyes
You’d want a reprieve
For me to mend
But I ache and so I’ll always
Despise me
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