Delta40
10-06-2011, 05:03 PM
We laughed like coloured balloons
in a room full of streamers and party poppers.
Our love was the sweetest bowl of punch.
It's all there in sepia at the back of the closet,
behind the set of towels we never use.
I can sense your resignation each morning as you
spend a brief moment studying
my aging smile before turning away.
Yes, after all this time, nothing has changed.
I'm the same person you looked at lastnight.
Our backs barely touch as we lie there
wallowing in constructed worlds of self-pity.
We move silently around the home
seeking comfort in junk mail and hard yolks,
deaf to flocks of cockatoos and galahs outside.
The kettle is eternally brought to the boil
but the flame of passion dwindles.
I feel like Eeyore chewing out of season thistles
and yet I'm still here.
in a room full of streamers and party poppers.
Our love was the sweetest bowl of punch.
It's all there in sepia at the back of the closet,
behind the set of towels we never use.
I can sense your resignation each morning as you
spend a brief moment studying
my aging smile before turning away.
Yes, after all this time, nothing has changed.
I'm the same person you looked at lastnight.
Our backs barely touch as we lie there
wallowing in constructed worlds of self-pity.
We move silently around the home
seeking comfort in junk mail and hard yolks,
deaf to flocks of cockatoos and galahs outside.
The kettle is eternally brought to the boil
but the flame of passion dwindles.
I feel like Eeyore chewing out of season thistles
and yet I'm still here.