Good morning,
What’s so good about it?
The sun harshly shines
through my tattered blinds
and stabs its rays in my eyes!
The birds aren’t singing-
They’re freaking screeching,
while a bunch of kids are shouting on the pavement.
It’s only ten in the morning,
but I already feel like I’ve had
to listen to the technical difficulties test
scream
at me
for freaking hours on end.
“Rough night?”
Yes...
Quite.
Shots of caffeine kept me awake
as I tried to sit down and write a poem
about the experiences I had
with you.
I tried and tried to find the words
to describe the petal-like texture
of your lips,
and the comfortable feeling
in your fingertips,
and how kissing you felt so wonderful,
I didn’t want to stop...
I never want to stop.
You kept me awake-
Again.
And as I’m lying in my bed with this angry feeling,
I turn and rest my hand on the spot where you were once laying,
and I frown,
because I know you left without saying,
“Goodbye.”
They say you shouldn’t think you’ll marry
the first man you say ‘forever’ to.
But I really thought that
I’d break that stereotype
with you.
Guess I can’t ever be right,
and I got lost in your beautiful eyes
that glistened in the New York streetlights.
And I guess my mom of all people was right-
When she said I’m too hopeful.
And I trace my lips with my fingers,
thinking back those nights we spent together-
Holding each other-
Calling you my lover-
Telling you that I won’t need another,
so long as you stay...
But you didn’t.
And I shouldn’t blame you.
Mom’s always right- I shouldn’t think it’s your fault...
It’s not your fault-
That when you walked out the door that one morning,
you didn’t come back.
It’s not your fault-
That the man in the blue car
speeding towards the intersection
had not a single intention
of stopping...
It’s not your fault he had been drinking.
It’s not your fault-
That I cried myself to sleep for so long,
asking God why you were gone,
because I was so sure His taking you away was just wrong,
because He doesn’t need you
as much as I do.
"good morning?"
At least...That’s what I feel.
And it’s not your fault-
That I’m angry when I walk-
Angry when I talk-
Angry when I tell people to just screw off,
because I’m not in the mood for them
-I’ll never be in the mood for them-
So long as you’re gone.
And from now on-
I wake up after a painful night,
hoping I’ll see your beautiful eyes,
but instead I find,
this emptiness inside,
so I’ll go back to my previous question:
What’s so ‘good’ about this morning?
Good morning,
What’s so good about it?
The sun harshly shines
through my tattered blinds
and stabs its rays in my eyes!
The birds aren’t singing-
They’re freaking screeching,
while a bunch of kids are shouting on the pavement.
It’s only ten in the morning,
but I already feel like I’ve had
to listen to the technical difficulties test
scream
at me
for freaking hours on end.
“Rough night?”
Yes...
Quite.
Shots of caffeine kept me awake
as I tried to sit down and write a poem
about the experiences I had
with you.
I tried and tried to find the words
to describe the petal-like texture
of your lips,
and the comfortable feeling
in your fingertips,
and how kissing you felt so wonderful,
I didn’t want to stop...
I never want to stop.
You kept me awake-
Again.
And as I’m lying in my bed with this angry feeling,
I turn and rest my hand on the spot where you were once laying,
and I frown,
because I know you left without saying,
“Goodbye.”
They say you shouldn’t think you’ll marry
the first man you say ‘forever’ to.
But I really thought that
I’d break that stereotype
with you.
Guess I can’t ever be right,
and I got lost in your beautiful eyes
that glistened in the New York streetlights.
And I guess my mom of all people was right-
When she said I’m too hopeful.
And I trace my lips with my fingers,
thinking back those nights we spent together-
Holding each other-
Calling you my lover-
Telling you that I won’t need another,
so long as you stay...
But you didn’t.
And I shouldn’t blame you.
Mom’s always right- I shouldn’t think it’s your fault...
It’s not your fault-
That when you walked out the door that one morning,
you didn’t come back.
It’s not your fault-
That the man in the blue car
speeding towards the intersection
had not a single intention
of stopping...
It’s not your fault he had been drinking.
It’s not your fault-
That I cried myself to sleep for so long,
asking God why you were gone,
because I was so sure His taking you away was just wrong,
because He doesn’t need you
as much as I do.
"good morning?"
At least...That’s what I feel.
And it’s not your fault-
That I’m angry when I walk-
Angry when I talk-
Angry when I tell people to just screw off,
because I’m not in the mood for them
-I’ll never be in the mood for them-
So long as you’re gone.
And from now on-
I wake up after a painful night,
hoping I’ll see your beautiful eyes,
but instead I find,
this emptiness inside,
so I’ll go back to my previous question:
What’s so ‘good’ about this morning?
