poetry (Remove filter)
And why?
And why are you still in my head?
In my chest,
In my soul?
Engulfed by disdain, disgust and love.
And I am so lone.
In the middle of Oxford Street crowds
I want your advice that never helped
I want your forehead kisses that I rejected.
Longing for you on dark silent nights.
To debate: am I ever truly alone?
Or does your phantomlike presence ignite and guide...
Tuesday 16th November 2021 10:41 pm
Recent Comments
Ray Miller on Fame
2 hours ago
raypool on PRESSING MATTERS
2 hours ago
Tim Daly on June 2025
3 hours ago
Stephen Gospage on A Prize Miscast: A Warning to Oslo
5 hours ago
John Coopey on "AS SURE AS GOD'S IN GLOUCESTER..."
14 hours ago
David RL Moore on Waiting
1 day ago
Graham Sherwood on A Prize Miscast: A Warning to Oslo
1 day ago
Red Brick Keshner on to be real
1 day ago
Graham Sherwood on "AS SURE AS GOD'S IN GLOUCESTER..."
1 day ago
Stephen Gospage on A memoir
1 day ago