I was the coffee and you were wine,
I wanted to stain
your favorite white shirt
and wreck it,
the way you got me too drunk
to count constellations in my sleep.
I wish for your silhouette
to stop burning
through the back of my eyelids,
for these echoes in my head
to stop sounding like your voice
screaming every 3am.
Lately, sunsets have been looking at me with sad eyes;
they seem to tell me
I’ve seen enough of them in a lifetime.
Maybe someday, I will stop you
from passing through my lips like a ghost,
how often your name seems to find its way
in between these short, hollow breaths.
I don’t need you anymore,
at least
not in the way the horizon breaks
and makes way for the sun
to give meaning to another day.
Back then, I thought
they should have songs written about you.
Now, not really.
You deserve broken proses,
and bitter coffee.


feature image by Nicole Mason
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Cara

Cara likes to read, write and laze around in her spare time. She goes into trance whenever she walks into bookstores and antique shops. She hopes to write about many adventures she'll have one day.

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2 Comments

  1. Reply

    Mig

    March 22, 2015

    Oh, Cariza! You’re now on my everyday read! <3 Please don't stop writing, ever! You have no clue how your words touch your readers' souls 🙂

    • Reply

      Cariza

      March 22, 2015

      Hi, Mig! Thank you for saying that. 🙂 It means a lot to me.

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