It Only
it only takes my best lines
to show you my worst
i casually ignored the rest signs
and unthreaded a messy curse
if only i had listened then
the difference i’d know now
a relatively alternate when
some day some way some how
it only took a quick look
from where everything was up
no tempting in the emptying
of another spilt and spoilt cup
if only plays the memory tease
digging on the randomly obscure
a rapid fire synapse breeze
a flood of past times to endure
it only drips at quiet times
a soft pattering behind my eyes
simple slips from bright times
and inner dialogued sighs
About the Creator
Bren
“I know what I mean it to be and respect that someone else may read something entirely different.”
Centre Stage with the wonderful Heather Hubler
Lap Cat
My nose is dripping, and Delia is tracing her fingers through my hair. Her husband is shirtless by the microwave, heating up leftovers from New Year's Eve. In 60 seconds, I'll be shoving mouthfuls of risotto between my quivering lips like a child and picking at semi-stale dinner rolls. Then, I'll pass my plate to one of their three Tabby cats (whom I can never tell apart) and let him/her/them (?) lick it clean.
By Erin Latham Shea4 days ago in Fiction
Comments (4)
The journey of life. Some of us, don’t know how to take the shortcut but the hard roads of life.
Wow this was something else - great read!
We just cannot stop wondering. We have no control over it. Loved your poem!
"If only" is the haunting bugger that keeps us up at night. Great poem.