We lies, we dies and I still wanted you.A Poem by Coyote PoetryJust words. We lies, we died and I still wanted you We lay in a bed of mercy, you and I, we bleed-out all the kindness we once knew. You told me often, "my soldier, you love war, w****s and the drink. You return to me when you are afraid to die alone. Keep killing the emotion of kindness, I have left." I watched her pretty face and I saw small tears begin to fall. I told you. You and I, are good at running away and playing hide and seek. We have loved the whiskey, the new kiss and the long ride. We forgot to hold on to one thing to make life okay. She smiled and she whispered. "We lies, we died and I still wanted you. Once we had pretty pictures, we knew first kiss, we knew first dance and we taught each other. The bloody word. Goodbye. Every so often, we find each other, open skin and we bleed out words of love, of need. Johnnie, we are fools, two fools saying words in the Winter storms of the Pacific and even, we don't believe them. Just words, just whispered left for the moon and the stars, to save. Reminders, love is rare and for the lucky, Johnnie, we are not the lucky. Just greedy and cold my sweet love." I brought her closer and I kissed her. I told her. Sweet dreams, become wishes, wishes become nightmares. I remember, you were the prettiest girl I ever seen. I ran to you every night and I begged for your attention. We had the whiskey nights and we tried to use up life till we allowed life to make us. Learn to accept less. I am here now, praying to the Atlantic sea and stars. For a miracle. We have Florida, time and maybe we can learn forgiveness. Two people sat by the Winter Atlantic sea. The sea is dancing and wounded and cold hearts are seeking things lost and shall never be found. Coyote
© 2019 Coyote PoetryAuthor's Note
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1 Review Added on January 28, 2019 Last Updated on January 28, 2019 AuthorCoyote PoetryMIAboutA Poet and writer who love to read and write. My pleasure is reading about the bad and good in a life. Also to honor the Poets/Writers of the past by reading their words. Remember .. more..Writing
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