March 21, 2017

World Poetry Day · Triplets




This is a poem I wrote April 24th, 2014.
It's potentially one of my favorites, but I've never posted it on here, and what better day to do it than World Poetry Day.


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I've become accustomed to cologne and smoke in my respiratory system

and the familiar sound of 8-bit games, and the
nights where we'd talk for hours about the people we are.

I began to believe I was superior to where "I had settled,"
and that's a direct quote from your passionate lips.
Never would I have envisioned they were capable of such defeat.

It's the feeling of a dead weight in my stomach I could have done without,
and you're leaving for the summer.
Not only the state, but us without a conclusion.

I believe this voicemail is nothing but hollow letters strung together by an empty voice.
And to think it's the same empty voice I was thirsting to hear before.
Now, it makes my stomach rot.

I'm not sure why
anything surprises me
nowadays.

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