My poem titled “Rooted”

Life, Poem, Poetry, sad, Uncategorized, Writing

Just when I think I’ve heard the last of you

 

You come traipsing back into my life

 

Larger than life itself

 

And remind me everything

 

I tried so hard to forget

 

And the worst part is

 

It’s not even you

 

It’s the memory of you

 

I sleep and your face surfaces in the dream world

 

I try to sleep and can’t seem to think of anything else

 

I stare up at the ceiling and can’t shake you

 

You’re rooted in my subconscious

 

I wish I could undergo some surgical procedure

 

To extract you from my brain

 

But I guess I’m resigned to living a life

 

Without a say in who remains in it

 

 

 

-Collins

 

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