outside the city.

I wander hopelessly
For a swelling love
And rage
She made my coldsore nobody
But it battered above
My rage
I didn’t try to look over your shoulder
And see a reply for “a kiss”
I waited for him with you
So much rage
Pretend you can’t feel me
But I know you cared
When we were strange under comforters
Made me rage

Can’t you hear the man
in my inexplicable mind
Invite monsters inside?

Yelling the affection he feels over the cliff in your eyes?
You’re my misunderstanding
Between the rage
Rip the maché off my face and weights off my body
And tell me “stop trying”
But why is the mental music with banjos still playing?

It makes me rage
Was my cup not filled enough to be drunk for you?
Or did my religion of karma and hope dismantle my brain?
Made of broken cell phone chargers
And rage


©Dawson Lehmann



About dawsoleh

poet. writer. student. hipster. cowboy. friend.
This entry was posted in Poems and tagged , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

2 Responses to outside the city.

  1. Skydreamer says:

    So vivid yet so beautiful,


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