Blood and SandA Poem by itsnoteoin
A girl, as usual,
presses earnestly past elbows and anecdotes armchairs and a******s. This is not a poem about her. She's looking for me. I'm a ghost when I need to be: along with my wit and good looks, it's my best quality. This is not a poem about me. She's usually dressed in red. Tonight, I have found a blonde who still thinks my scars are pretty to trace. This is a poem about the blonde. He tells me I am carelessly elegant. He says I write like the wind blows; freely, and simply. He likes how I drink my whiskey (neat, on the rocks) and he admires how I smoke my weed (copiously, to cope). The girl in red hunts still. I am haunted. I am deserving of all that befalls me. I can think of nothing but escape - and still, the blonde murmurs in my ear, whispers like waves on a far-off shore. © 2015 itsnoteoinFeatured Review
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5 Reviews Added on April 27, 2015 Last Updated on April 27, 2015 Tags: poetry, poem, free verse, poet AuthoritsnoteoinDublin, Leinster, IrelandAboutI'm an 18 year old student currently living in Dublin, Ireland. My dream is to be an author living in Paris, France. I love poetry, jazz and hip-hop. My favourite author is Michael Chabon; my favourit.. more..Writing
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