From the Woods of Kentucky

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
Spending days and nights in the woods of Fort Knox, Kentucky and sleeping under the stars with endless thinking time gave me a chance to do just that...think.

Submitted: September 26, 2016

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Submitted: September 26, 2016

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As I lay here in the woods,

Filthy in more than one way,

I’m forced to sit here with my thoughts and think about you.

A gun I don’t mind having to my head.

 

“Right now,” I would say, as she said “Never.”

And just as night follows day, roles reverse.

“I can’t,” I say,

As she says “Right now.”

 

As we talked from afar, without speaking,

I already began to miss your voice.

I already missed your freckles’ subtlety, your eyes’ brown, your skin’s tan, your soul’s white.

But according to me, “Let’s be realistic…hypothetically, theoretically…”

 

And now it seems we drunkenly talk with no alcohol in sight,

Drunk on something else, perhaps.

And I’m beginning to realize this

As I lay here in the woods.


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