Holes

I remember how you smiled
at improvised words
I carried secretly in my pockets,
until the day they slipped away.
The holey pockets of my old jeans
could only hold hands,
like we used to
before dullness ate us alive.
Before we gazed
into each other’s eyes hoping
they weren’t shining,
so we couldn’t catch the reflection
of our own pathetic existence.
I remember how you smiled
and I smile,
until my smile slips away, too.
Because holes took my words away,
and new ones keep opening at each step.

2017-07-09T00:36:39+00:00 Categories: Poetry|Tags: , |