Some scribbles from just now. Quite sad at the moment. Quite sad.
Don’t judge me based on this work.
I’m telling you now I have not slept.
It’s Not Him- It’s The Idea I Miss, a poem by Drem
March 19, 2016
“He comes into my life
and leaves after the shoes he wears
have left footprints in mud,
a trail all over my heart.
And I go on.
Leaving my life in a taxi cab,
now years later.
New life. New name. New face.
I change everything
because I hate who I was with him.
Getting high and getting tattoos.
Keeping busy writing in bed by myself.
But I rather be alone than be lonely
with someone whose empty
Who’s a shell of a man.
He’s a shell of a man.
Was a shell of a man.
I don’t know who he actually is any more.
Haven’t seen him in years.
He’s not who I thought he was.
But I keep looking back.
I keep dreaming he comes back.
Whoever he is.
I keep wanting him to hold my hand.
But he won’t.
We all know he won’t.
And I hate that I want him to.
I’m a woman and I’m weak.
I just miss the dreams that were alive with him.
I miss the dreams of what we could have been.
I miss the idea of being loved.
I miss the idea of love.
The idea of him.
Not him. Not actually him.
He doesn’t matter.
I’m addicted to the idea of reciprocal affection
with a past that wasn’t meant to turn to fruition.
Does that make any sense?
I haven’t slept
and it’s 8 in the morning.
I hate being alone…
and I was stupid and wrote him a letter.
Makes it all worse.
Because I know he read it.
And he didn’t write back.”
(c) Drem 2016