Ink

Ink

A Poem by Dillon J. Cullinan

Wrinkled t-shirts leaving lavender spots on the floor,
Coconut milk scented hair filling your bedroom with curls.

Pearl earrings and bobby pins forgotten on the nightstand,
The stains of another lover left to dry on your sheets.

A note on the corner of your bed thanks you, a phone number scribbled on it.
They left a wad of wrinkled cash. Twenty-two dollars.

Material love you thought you couldn’t live without.
Why do the ones you love always leave?

Do you blame it all on your father?
Or do you hate the taste of ink?

© 2017 Dillon J. Cullinan



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This offering seems rather bleak until you realize the speaker is asking questions. Someone with farther to go toward leaving the self defeating cycle described here would be blaming and engaging in self pity. Here we see someone who may actually find the source of unhappiness is coming from within, not without. If hope and determination to prevail gain control, this story may have a happy ending after all.

Posted 1 Week Ago



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55 Views
1 Review
Added on November 10, 2017
Last Updated on November 10, 2017
Tags: Poem, Poetry, Free Verse, Couplets, Love, Sex, Relationships, Life, Past, Lust

Author

Dillon J. Cullinan
Dillon J. Cullinan

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About
I like things and other, cooler, things. Twitter: @DillonCullinan Email: dcullinan343@gmail.com more..

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