I’ve been wearing black ever since you left.
I wear black to mourn the passionate times we shared, my toxicated tongue on yours and yours on mine.
Underneath the stars our lips intertwined like the calm waves crashing into the pallid sands.
I’m even growing a yellow rose garden on my window sill and I promise I’ll visit once the petals begin to blossom.
Occasionally I picture you in ‘that’ black tuxedo….ohhh! How beautiful your ebony face looks in that mahogany casket.
So I lay every night in my silk black dress , shed a few tears in hopes that these waters that leak from my crimson-weary eyes help me to grow and branch away from you.
Your sweet words have become a somber lullaby now.
Like a black body, hanging from a maple tree; our peculiar conversations linger in my mind.
It still hurts that you are not here with me, but I guess it’s okay cause I still have parts of you glued to me.
Sometimes I forget, but the starts remind me of you so every night I remember.
When the night is still and time continues to tick in the background, I remember like you are still here….
I feel you breathing down my neck; your warm grip around my waist and somehow my heart seems to dance to a different rhythm, beating against my chest to a tune so soft only you and I understand.
There’s an emptiness in this room
There’s an emptiness in every space;
And then I remember your are probably
R. I. P(ing) in another lovers bed, but I know she’ll sleep with shivering lips tonight, her hairs will stand and her skin will goosebump because your heart is stone cold!…
But mine is a burning fire and I’ve realized I was keeping you too warm,
But that’s okay because here I am sitting in black, mourning over a man who’s heart still beats.