October

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
autumn leaves on the grave

Submitted: April 08, 2017

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Content

Submitted: April 08, 2017

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Why do you have to pack up and leave me,

What’s so good about California anyway?

I try my best to talk you out of it,

But you don’t listen to a word I say.

 

You say it’s got nothing to do with me,

Cause you gotta go there to follow your dreams.

It’s twenty-six hundred miles away from me,

And as you leave my heart tears at the seams.

 

I could barely handle living across town from you,

Being cross country just amplifies that feeling.

I tried to make you stay just a little bit longer,

By stealing your car keys and taping them to the ceiling.

 

Tell me what I’m supposed to do, without you here,

Without your warmth our bed is freezing cold.

You took my happiness with you in your suitcase,

And now every negative feeling rages uncontrolled.

 

The nightmares came roaring back the first night,

They felt even more lucid this time around.

I’m scared to go to sleep at night,

Stayed up til sunrise walking the streets downtown.

 

Actually I haven’t slept much since you left,

And that was about six months ago.

Pill bottles and spilt liquor stain the carpet,

I keep taking them until I feel vertigo.

 

I hit up your phone, to try and catch up,

But you never seem to answer me back.

Yet before you said you wanted to stay in touch,

But when my number pops up, you become an amnesiac.

 

I still tried to make the journey out there, like I promised,

Didn’t get too far cause I caught white line fever on the highway.

I made out but my car got totaled, and that’s how I knew it was over,

The dream died on that highway, at the end of October.


© Copyright 2017 Melancholic Wisdom. All rights reserved.

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