9: 24
being just as stupid as I ever am,
I open my mouth to forgetfulness,
to devour your memory, to take your place.
but the tears in my eyes
won't reform into the one
who'd made me, then left.
9: 48
the truth feels like a hammer.
9: 57
all of my mistakes were just grace
before this meal.
my body will bare the trouble
from a world empty of you.
we can call it weak treason,
but really it's only just a hole
about my size, in a pocket.
11: 03
my Love,
it's cold here.
and there is nothing to fill my heart,
in the gap between mortality and
one loved.
Eila Mahima Jaipaul
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/5th-december-9-00pm/
