I draw myself a hot bath-
floating roses petals
rise up to lick my senses
alone draped in candlelight-
drowning in bubbles
of french delights-
Behind looked doors
I reach into-
the medicine cabinet
to grab a xanax or two
with all you've put me through
I deserve it-
Your lying promises
fall on deaf ears
no matter how-
you slice me the blood
still spills the same-
A once rare gem now
shattered into-
tiny worthless fragments
littering black asphalt
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Dear Robin, this is both beautiful and sad. The way you write about relationships and love always take the reader directly into your heart. Your incredible talent has that power. You never fail to amaze me. Lynn Stillman