Let's Waste Away Together

Your smoky-soft bliss

Is cut by the hiss

Of concrete’s wet kiss

 Now you have nothing left.

Color soaks me all day

Yet I still reek of grey

So unnoticed I'll stay

Until I have nothing left.

 

To be sheltered by pride

Helps you mask what’s inside

It's so easy to hide

When you have nothing left.

 

I’ll kiss away time

And whisper I’m fine

Tongue bloodied with wine

And I have nothing left.

 

Though each stolen breath

Will fuel our slow death

We’ll continue this theft

For we have nothing left. 

Author's Note

Thank you for reading

Reviews

[Sam]

I really enjoyed your poem, it flowed nicely and had a lot of emotion and meaning. Good job!

[hanir]

I feel you! Creatively written!

[R J Askew]

I esp like this line : "Yet I still reek of grey." The sense of slow demise is how life is in many ways. Once we are past 27 what else is there? We just repeat things over and over, bored out of our minds. I read the last line as 'We have no more first times left.' It's the first times that make life what it is. Of course we all have one first time left, but let's not rush to that one, unless we are really really bored with breathing ... in ... out ... in ... out ... Ach, breathing is such a strange thing. We forget we do it. Best not to think about it toooooo much! You made me think. Well done. I like that.

[justjenn_2u]

Nice rhyme throughout. Each stanza is short and to the point and produces your underlying emotion. I enjoyed reading your work. Write on.

[TC Dunn]

moving... a very strong piece full of loneliness. So beautiful.

[Tyler Dean Allen]

lonely as hell. just what i like though. beautiful and lonely, i should say. smokey-soft bliss. love that especially

[Lucien Maier]

very nice flow, good work

[solo2be]

Great write, I loved how it all flowed together.

[Babe Roxx]

Lovely couplets in your stanza...truly enjoyed reading the emotions invoked in each lines, a relationship can make you feel spent, yet it feels good at times, and in other times, not so much. A wonderful read.

[Rasputin]

This poem is like making hot, passionate love while you're on a rocket headed for the sun.