Poetry Blogs (split)

She, 

 is not yet an old soul. Such apprenticeship has not yet begun.

Studiously she watches as you cite your second hand wisdom. 

Bested by her innocence,  such familiar nostalgia withers like the thick layer of dust it hides beneath.

Shaken and bruised like brine against an ice cube,  the vermouth of your ideals is poured into an ill fitting glass.

Left feeling dirty you turn to d...

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See their faces so jaded

With all the torturous barking they hear

Over and over and over again

Assaulting their innocent ears

Our mouths keep spitting out poison

There’s bile wrapped in every word

After all these years of affection

How did our love become so absurd?

And I hope, just hope

You sleep sound and safe in your single bed on this night

I kn...

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