Underneath false dead Polar bears.

Maybe if I pretend that the pillows are you, I won’t notice, after all, my eyes will be closed like wings of dead locust
It’s hard sleeping, knowing you were once here, and I was just there
Fatigue doesn’t interest me at the moment, I do fear
Dear, you’re falling asleep
“Upstairs”, we never made it that far, and I never cared to remind you of your gestures∞
I guess watching you fall asleep was one of my guiltiest of pleasures
And for once I closed my eyes, and felt so safe, I felt like even death would be jealous at this moment
For my heart stopped, and raced as if blood was never pumped through, not a drop, nor stir or foment
Are we lovely liars, that pry through cardboard boxes on church steps and eat barbed wires∞
Or are we the truth, like “nothing but” or the thing that “hurts”, words with mouths dry are still words
That which is this, cannot be true
you are my what, and I will forever be you
I hate cars, I hate trains, and I dislike movement, because they’re just there to set me back a bit
from you
But no matter the choice, or tremble in my voice, I will have to love you like………
← That

Over me, and you.


About Oil Underneath

I drink glasses of cold water.
This entry was posted in Poetry and tagged , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

4 Responses to Underneath false dead Polar bears.

  1. systematicweasel says:

    Truly a wonderfully written post! Enjoyed the read =D


  2. I loved this one very much!

  3. This is a very heart-wrenching piece. i love the question you ask: ‘Are we lovely liars, that pry through cardboard boxes on church steps and eat barbed wires…’ and all the infinity signs. I also love the fall of snowflakes across your page – very atmospheric.

  4. CINNA says:

    good stuff!

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