Sitting on the bathroom floor
Watching the tap drip, drip, dripping
Rhythmically, the droplets fall
I am enthralled
That feeling that I can't ignore
My world is tip, tip, tipping
They are my tears that should be falling
Welling up behind indifferent eyes
I stare and stare, but they're not galling
I am numb inside
My blood is anesthetized
Yet the deep, dull ache's still calling
It is felt with every beat
Trapped behind my ribs, it flutters
Escaping pain's no easy feat
Constantly, it gently stutters
Almost snuffed, it stirs and splutters
Unable to find a retreat
Such thin bones can easily shatter
But how much does that actually matter?
Feeling myself peel away and scatter
Fall and fade, blend in with the dark
Leave no trace, not a single mark
The ending of that tiny spark
In the depths of this dark bathroom
And the breaking silence
Surrounding, unspoken defiance
The despair is starting to bloom
That deep, dull ache's never gone
Yet, I stare on and on
Feel myself slowly slipping, slipping
Crumple against the wall
As soon as that tap stops dripping, dripping
My tears will start to fall
YOU ARE READING
Tales of Bygone Lovers
PoetryThis is the collection of poems and song lyrics I wrote during and after my first three relationships and one of my crushes. Although some of them will be soppy, all of them were written to help me express my feelings at the time. One of the only go...
