He grabbed the hose,
Pulled it across the dampened grass below him and his feet.
His eyes a hazy red,
Rimmed with past and present tears.
Lips chapped,
And a deep blue irises surrounded by dark bags.
His phone was buzzing rapidly.
But he ignored.
He opened the car door,
Unlocked the window, and trailed
His hose into the exhaust.
He gets in, the black leather, cold.
Another message as he reaches for the keys.
"K"
His words, were everything to him.
He needed and dreamed to hear.
The car never turned on.
YOU ARE READING
Poems: Gade 12- Present Day
PoetryFrom another guy in the world, to you. Words that aren't spoken, but remain true. I hope you find comfort in my poetry too. A rusted connection to my reality, because honestly. I've lost it.
