Simple Things (Let Go)

Simple Things (Let Go)

A Poem by A. E. Red

A few simple things.

Nothing extraordinary.

An invitation to dinner,

a movie date, a hint

that I crossed your mind today.


I just want those simple things.

I want to lie next to you

without the dread of knowing

that you'll forget me in the morning.

For who f*****g knows how long?


I want you to want me,

I want it to hurt a little when I'm gone.
I want to live in your dreams,

I want to call you mine,

I want you to want to call me yours.


I want to eat leftover spaghetti

in our pajamas with the windows open.

I want to hand out candy

to trick-or-treaters on Halloween.

I want to argue over a color scheme

for the Christmas tree.

I want to hang a wreath on your front door.


I want to pick out the saddest dog

in the shelter to sleep in between us.

I want to wash your laundry,

I want to kiss you in the shower.

I want to kiss you in your sleep.

I just want to kiss you.


I want to bring you ice cream

when you've had a bad day.

I want to share a blanket.

I want your heat to warm my toes.

I want to watch whatever

the f**k

you want

to watch...

as long as you're next to me.


I want to watch the fireflies rise,

I want to watch the sunset.

I want your fingers locked between mine.

I want my fingers in your hair when I'm sad.

I want to make you smile every day.


But it's not simple.

We continue to complicate it.

Why is it complicated, though,

when yours are the only lips

I can think about tasting?

When yours is the only chest

I want to rest on?


Why can't I look at you

without my body bursting into flame?

Why do my clothes fall off

when you kiss my shoulder?

I've been digging this hole

in my heart for you to fall into.

So let go.

© 2017 A. E. Red


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I had forgotten how damned painful it is to be young.

Posted 6 Years Ago



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Added on September 2, 2017
Last Updated on September 2, 2017

Author

A. E. Red
A. E. Red

Charles City, IA



About
I am a walking oxymoron. Sad, but silly. Lazy, yet anxious. Horror-obsessed and phobic. A loner who craves attention and company. An obsessive-compulsive, yet careless woman. I'm a 29 year old mother .. more..

Writing
Assault Assault

A Poem by A. E. Red