I left teardrop stains on my pillow for the next see,
I wanted to leave the impression of the next me.
Burning holes through the cotton textures underneath and to the mattress below,
Yes I am potent and can scar when touched.
But the love that pours from me can heal a broken heart,
Thorny blisters will carry me home, like a pungent sweet smell left by old perfumes.
No washing off the lingering, no sliding back to me, endangered love wanted no more of me.
Fingertips grasping for the luxury of my presence, exploring the needs I leave behind.
Concealing smiles behind mine, leaving no impression I was even there.
© copyright 2011. All Rights Reserved.