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Array ( [sid] => 166471 [catid] => 1 [aid] => mick [title] => Gone [time] => 2011-06-04 21:41:39 [hometext] => [bodytext] => I sit on my bed,
thinking of my next move,
I tried to ,
but I avoid you,
no eye contact,
and all I feel is regret,
as it tears at my gut like a knife,
finding it's way through the skin,
I stare out my window,
and think
think
think and work my way to the knife,
and pull it out
No More [comments] => 2 [counter] => 148 [topic] => 50 [informant] => LizzyC [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => ApologyPoetry )

Gone

Contributed by LizzyC on Saturday, 4th June 2011 @ 09:41:39 PM in AEST
Topic: ApologyPoetry

I sit on my bed,
thinking of my next move,
I tried to ,
but I avoid you,
no eye contact,
and all I feel is regret,
as it tears at my gut like a knife,
finding it's way through the skin,
I stare out my window,
and think
think
think and work my way to the knife,
and pull it out
No More

Copyright © LizzyC ... [ 2011-06-04 21:41:39]
(Date/Time posted on site)

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Re: Gone (User Rating: 1 )
by poeticjestix on Sunday, 5th June 2011 @ 02:59:18 PM AEST
(User Info | Send a Message)

love and knives? love, if both parties meant well at the start, is a good thing, and it will happen again.Believe me. It's always a pity when love ends. Especially when you aren't cynical, unlike me. Talk of knives? crazy. Knives only have a purpose to break up, split etc. Love. Love is meant to do the opposite- and it will. By the way- i'm drunk right now so don't believe me.

Re: Gone (User Rating: 1 )
by iodinelove on Sunday, 5th June 2011 @ 08:13:20 PM AEST
(User Info | Send a Message)

I have taken a knife to my wrist, and I have been wounded by love, and I assure you, flesh heals. It has been over ten years, and the scar on my wrist is fading. My spirit still bleeds from time to time--severed--still mourns at a somehow familiar sight or smell, a sound that pitches just so...

The thing about love is that it never confines itself to one memory. When love unsheathes itself, it does so fully, and it's strike encompasses all the failures and injustices we've suffered. And when we're on our knees, it takes the time to remind us of all the terrible things we've done in its name to the people we care about.

Yet, it's all we have...

Keep writing.

Always, Abraham

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