The Cut That Is Always Felt…

The longer I go without a woman,

The more suicidal I become,

To think I could have everyone,

And yet be rule to succumb…

 

As if stuck under an umbrella,

A corpse stuck with no rain,

A tear for every coin that falls,

And an empty bottle for the change…

 

To long and to be empty,

A sin without a clue,

To long for a woman I long for,

For that chaos is to ensue…

 

To snare the nerve that captures the ting,

Grace felt within a simple goosebump,

To think A woman could cure my brain,

And yet leave wont a for a good hump…

 

I think I’m suicidal without a woman,

I think I’ve been single enough,

To say I am detached to love,

Is simply not enough…

 

And yet a simple hug would do…

About Michael Medlen

My name is Michael and during my free time I avoid having a day job. Strangely enough, this gives me the freedom to run this blog. I write just about anything that can be considered art. I also occasionally post articles that may or may not be relevant to the theme of this site. You’ve been warned.
This entry was posted in Poetry, Uncategorized and tagged , . Bookmark the permalink.

3 Responses to The Cut That Is Always Felt…

  1. gbabeteam says:

    This is a write up built from your buried emotions.. It’s gonna get better.. It’s just a matter of time

    Like

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