The Day That I Moved Into BostonA Poem by Foxemerald
The Day That I Moved Into Boston ~
What crazy thing decided me to go to New York City, anyway? So depressed that I am not living, A life long gone, Days passed into an echo, And you have died, I can't remember my life, Everything comes back in broken spurts from a spout, A waterfall that fades into a mass, In colorful waving hands, As it runs itself out, Into a pond, Like a schizophrenic might see, It's length, But I can't think to, Figure out how I ended up here, Or why it hurts to think about it, Save that you died and I was, In the middle of another city, and I, Ended up in downtown Boston. I'm abusive and I love, As per my destructive tendencies will mr, So that men experience the fate my, Vices wish to designate. I have no control, I like alcohol, and some dark, cold rainy nights, Back in the days when I still believed in love I, Thought of new ways to dream, but still I just, Never quite got it, To be just right, with the right person. Circles in schizophrenia, wet, I became crazy back when I moved into Boston, And I remembered you died the day I, Stopped dreaming, breathing- Colors and shimmering pools, Like small ribbons and blue-tinted eddies, Fragmented like little glass shards, pieces, Like faint orangish rinds, come back to me, they smell, Like your minted breath. Mint, I thought, and I drew my knife, And carved a tufted ribbon into your chest, It looked like a heart, and I, Gave to you my final goodbyes . . . Told you that you would never hurt me again, I, Gave you my heart, with my own, personalized- Insignia I, Made you mine, forever and for always, Mine, My eternal lover. © 2018 Foxemerald |
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Added on January 15, 2018 Last Updated on January 15, 2018 AuthorFoxemeraldMIAboutHi, So, I see you’ve found me. Since the excitement and mystery of being the ‘anonymous writer’ has been shorn, let me tell you a little more about myself. I graduate with a Bache.. more..Writing
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