A body cowers by

the toilet, convulsing in pain,

the scent of vomit pervades,

signs of a silent torture

but no one comes to hold

her hair back.

 

A puff of smoke escapes

his lips, the same ones

that used to smile lamely

when she entered the room,

wishing he was more than

feigned confidence.

 

Sometimes all he gains

from love

is induced

tranquilization.

 

She hears his voice

in the play,

the main highlight of

that night was the way

the actor’s question,

do you trust me?

reminded her of him.

She wishes she said yes.

 

Now all that remains

of love

is fruitless

imagination

 

and

 

Lost words

that disappear beneath

the lines,

a kind of ugly beauty

that lies between

closed minds,

blind eyes,

slippery hands

 

 

that hold tight

to all

they cannot

find.

 

---

Another poem written for my creative writing class. : )

 

Hope you guys like it!