What she said
You will miss me
when you are alone, she said,
when the tide of life’s cold wind
freezes about your head
when the sunset burns red
and only you are there to see
when the laughing of the stream
mocks you in your stead
when your arms wrap around nothing
as they search your empty bed
when you melt at seeing a smile
but wake from dreaming it instead
when the flowers in the florists
wet your eyes as you pass by
when they well in your quieter moments
till you give it up and cry
you will miss me when I’m dead,
so shu’ up, she said.
Look! All I meant was...
Talk to the hand,
the face ain’t listening.
Loser! Minger! Dickhead, she said
But, listen, all I said...
Do you want this fucking bottle
wrapped around your head?
And, the laughing of the stream
seemed like music in my head,
and my arms reached out for nothing
and the smile I dreamt was dreamy
and the flowers in the florists
were wreaths to celebrate the dead.
What you thinking about?