A Month Of Sundays Or I Wish I Were Dead Poem by Khristian E. Kay

It’s been a month of Sundays since you touched me
Even longer since you called me by my name
It seems so far off outside of us
Inside I’m still the same

There was a time when you wouldn’t leave me
When you trembled in my arms instead
It’s been a month of Sundays
that I wish I had been dead

It’s been a month of Sundays since you loved me
Months longer since we danced
Since we held each other beneath the stars
Since you reached out for my hand

I wish you’d say you love me I wish you’d find me here
Recognize my visage through the glass
It’s been a month of Sundays
that I’ve paid for this chance

It’s been a month of Sundays since you kissed me
Your lips now pursed in rage
Your eyes cursed in their vacancy
Hiding in the fragrance of your hair


It’s been a month of Sundays since you touched me
It’s me here inside waiting
Waiting for you to seek me out
To take me with your calling

I wish you’d find me sitting here staring from this porch
Break me from the empty of this bed
It’s been a month of Sundays
that I wish I had been dead


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