Saturday, January 17, 2015
Wounds
every time i remember you exist
i salt my tongue
every word i said to you
is an open wound
sometimes i think of you
and i look at my scabs
i've had them for years
i should see a doctor
you're always far from my mind
until you're right between my eyes
like the pistol i pointed at you
like the shotgun you pointed at me
(you shot first)
Kayci Lamb
Topic(s) of this poem: sad love