when your sky fell
swaddling you breathless
in the blackness
August sun rubbing
salt in your wounds
you laid still
while fools fumbled
reckless with your heart
grief is like a monster
you wear on your face
and they run like you’re godzilla
but you were a flower once
now dying in front of them
petal by petal and in ways
they can’t fathom
still they pick…
I feel for you, I feel not(hing)
I feel for you, I feel not(hing)
“so you round up the usual suspects”
clueless, gutless,
they don’t care less
but none of them fit the mold
they keep painting you in pink
as your pigment pales
on the other side
of rose coloured glasses
I am your host for Poetics at dVerse Poets Pub.
We are writing poems that include a movie quote.
“so you round up the usual suspects” – Casablanca, 1942
Doors open at 3 p.m. EST