Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/913521-Private-Cell
by Mitch
Rated: 13+ · Poetry · Death · #913521
Some regrets can't be overcome.

Can't hear the noise around me,
But I hear the silence well.
It echos off the moonbeams
In my private cell of hell.

I can still smell her perfume,
Picture sunlight on her hair.
Even while memories loom
And I drown in bloody tears.

All I do is remember.
In my own petard I'm caught.
My heart's a flaming ember,
Ever burning, so distraught.

Maybe she knows forgiveness.
I know I'll never forget.
Maybe she wants her vengeance.
My death can even the debt.

I sit and hear her screaming
As the booze still spins my head.
Hypnotic flames still gleaming;
Silence! My lover is dead.

Sirens holler and flicker.
Uniforms running around.
Fire and water bicker.
My blood puddling on the ground.

A man in blue approaches,
Spies the slash across the wrist.
Too late! Darkness encroaches,
I don't think it will desist.

I sent my love heavenly,
So I sent myself to hell.
Earned, eternal misery
In my very private cell.
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/913521-Private-Cell