Lukewarm

poem by: Theresa Taylor
Written on Aug 11, 2016

It's all Lukewarm
after I've had you
I thrust myself into the deep
Hoping to feel a feeling that will keep
But I' neither hot nor cold
I taste nothing dull nor bold
I'm blank...
Blank as the space you generated in our bed
The morning you left is a broken record in my head
That tiny paper, that little note
Empty tears and empty hope
Lukewarm is the torture in which I exist
To feel nothing on and on is worse than death's kiss

Tags: sad, pain,

Add Comment

Christopher Russon commented:

Lovely poem.

Robert Kohlhammer commented:

Well ryhmed.

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