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by marisol romero 3 years ago in performance poetry


The sincerity in his voice intoxicates my heart, sending me in a whiplash for

An ache that spreads like wildfire, consuming the parts I've given up for lost.

But merciless hunter takes his prey, and as I look into his ocean deep eyes, I drown.

Forever is not a word that has ever crossed my mind when I think of how I wish to die,

Nor do I wish to live in a life where poems don't spell his name, but

Is life really living if flowers don't shed their tears and grow?

If colors don't jump to life when he comes back home?

A home in which marriage lays in his words and actions,

Causing an inebriation known only in the lonely nights.

Nights in which I shed every pint of truth and every ounce of lies,

Every meter of joy and every mile of pain, laying it at his feet...

Leaving me to bathe in my vulnerability,

To lavish in the scents of regret,

In the words that escaped me, cutting into the silence laid before us.

Butchering the melody he sung just for us.

performance poetry

marisol romero

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