Past Tense


Just wrote a little poem a couple of days ago. Figured I haven’t shared any creative content on here for a while, so here is a little piece of poetry.

 

She holds her head and she counts to ten
but the demons never ran away
And her skin it crawls with the words
I never said.
Smile baby ill be the man you want me to be
When I find myself hiding in the somewhere
the black carpet ill never reach.
You want the roses and the dancing
Of great ballrooms on sunny days.
But the poems on the table, crude chopped words
with some hidden feelings .
Leftovers and a side of guilt,
I can walk you down aisles,
but I wont wear a suit sewn with quiet threads
And discontent buttons
Can we agree to exist within the fabric of my thoughts
where our lips only smile and never speak those
Words that we always say.
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About Damian Rucci

D.F. Rucci is a writer, blogger, and a musician from a small town in New Jersey. View all posts by Damian Rucci

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