Elijahs' Fuckin' Coat

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Romance  |  House: Booksie Classic
A poem about the coat that belongs to Elijah... XD

Submitted: August 21, 2014

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Submitted: August 21, 2014

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Elijah smells like burnt wood and old mint gum.
It never fails to amuse me each time he passes.
He always smiles and says, 
"Portia Elizabeth, what a mess you are."

Elijah speaks like a educated street rat, 
coy and deticated, lost in his own ways. 
We used to sit around the fire, battle in tongues like two souls often do.

Graveyard bells never scared him.

Elijah knows his shit like no other, 
forever planning the path he leads.  
I wish I was so careful in the absence of knowledge.

He never leaves a single thing behind, even his scent disappates. 
Elijah could always sense my distress.
So how is it that he doesn't know?
Or does he lack any care towards the wirl wind?

Impossible.

Elijah hasn't been here for so long, stay texts, lost skype calls aren't nearly the same.
Remembering the last time his presence graced my aura, 
I recall a desperate conversation that ended in storms lining the door frame.

Elijah never leaves anything behind, but he left his coat.

Sense of protection.
One thing, one mistake.

Elijahs' fuckin' coat... 


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