Fiddlehead

Poem You

Fiddlehead


Talk to your ghost
Sleep with your clothes
I'll take whatever's left
In the waste of you death

But in case you come I left the light on
Bright enough to see from stars
Find me in the bedroom corner
Writing verses of shattered hearts

To ease missing you
And the stinging too
Of seeing blue poem you

Come home, lights on
Cause I'm missing you
And it's stinging too
To see a blue poem you

Come home, the lights on

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