Lips
Warm lips tasting of fire encase mine
His ashtray mouth became the escape I needed
The escape I thought I wanted
I just wanted to be wanted again.
Held again
Loved the way the brown boy used to love me.
Love me.
Need me.
Cigarette mouth kiss me like I am the oxygen you need.
Hold me as if I can fix your alcoholic needs.
And I'll pretend that you're him.
I'll pretend that it is his lemonade lips and not your burned ones.
And you'll pretend I am the mother of your daughter.
That everything worked out and that we're a happy little family.
In this moment, I'll pretend to be her.
I'll be what you need.
As long as you just don't speak.
Don't speak.
Don't speak.
Because his hello,
Her hello.
It all ended in goodbye.
But tonight.
Right now.
I'll be your nicotine
And you'll be my handle.
When you pack is empty and my bottle drained again.
When regret stabs at your chest.
And the tears are on the brink
Together we'll mix my alcohol and your nicotine.
We can play dress up and pretend
Pretend we are what the other needs
Pretend we are happy
Pretend we are okay.
Because in this moment I am her.
And you are him,
And nothing ended.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A nice poetic imagination, L. H. You may like to read my poem, Love and Lust. Thanks