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My mouth refuses to open.


Not for air, not for the words of long dead poets


Definitely not for any boy who wouldn’t have your eyes


Drunkard’s eyes, were they not?




The way they would blink, like a polaroid camera


Blink over blossoms in bloodied mouths 


Blink over the fucked up girl with a dagger smile 


Blink over dead bodies trying to clothe themselves.



Iron rod tongue scraping away at my palate for any residue


Of your reality – tasting without ever feeling full


I am a lioness without her prey.


For this was how our love story was:




Every act of love was a hunt, from the rose hearts


To the honey you drank out of my chest


My ribs expand with glee from the sensation


Of your mouth lapping me up.



These bodies, possessed by the light


Possessed by the dark


Possessed by ravenous creatures


This was our version of love.



My mouth refuses to open


But to say your name


Like a dark curse,


Like an alchemy 


Like welcome home,

here’s my heart.

Leave, they said,


And in their eyes,


They wrote pages for me,


Books and libraries,


They wrote guilt for me,


They wrote for me reasons,




Leave, they said,


And in their whispers,


They spoke to me of tomorrow,


They drew,


And in pictures,

they drew tomorrow,


And for my eyes,


They colored ever page in black,


For me,

they covered every window,


In pages, and pictures,


Of tomorrow and reasons,




Leave, they said,


And all I heard,


Was my heart.


Whispering,


Drawing,


Sketching,


Echoing,


Singing,


Dancing,


Laughing,


Smiling,


And jiving,


At every sight of you,




My heart spoke to me,


It showed me,


Of colors that made you,


Of words,

never written before,


Words that made you,


My heart,


Blinded my eyes,

And just kept on,


Loving you.

COMMENTS

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moonwitchrising
17:49 Jun 15 2015

Very touching. you have a great gift with words!

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POST COMMENT

Nothing ever ends


Beautifully, poetically


For the stories bend


The truth partially

Embellishments added,


Blood was once just red,


Deaths romanticised,


Corpses on a white bed

Tales don’t tell of the fear


The gore, the emptiness,


The voice in your ear


That whispers, accuses

And tales always forget those


Who weren’t deemed brave


They will never disclose


The hundred nameless graves

Is that beautiful in your mind?


As you watch a friend die,


Their lives gone with the wind,


And you wish to follow, to fly

Away from the stench of death,


Away from the cold lifeless body


Which begs for the last breath,


Which hosts a soul empty

It was never, ever romantic,


But those who did not see


Try to make tales poetic,


The horrors never free

As they were in the thoughts,


Which were devoid of emotions,


Of those who fiercely fought,


Then cried tears as if oceans

For the eyes that beheld


The fires of war were there


When priests sadly closed


Kin’s eyes desolate and bare

Are you that vain to think


That the raw grief is an art?


The grief that tries to sink


Is a deadly poisoned dart

That kills without warning,


That smites at a memory


That stops you laughing


That makes you crazy

But the tales are distorted,


And no prayer can bring back


The ones who fell and died


The ones families now lack

No song, no amount of love


No sonnets, poems, or tales,


Can change the web

Fate wove


And in the end our efforts fail

They are simply dead,


Corpses are just bodies


Blood is only liquid red


All else are faked stories

For nothing ever ends


Beautifully, poetically


And the stories bend


The truth partially

poetry fell from her lips as she took another drag,

she breathed out rhymes like the smoke that lingered in the air

before it drifted away and long after it was gone,

the words were still killing her from the inside out,

turning her heart as black as her lungs

You’re like the sea,


You’re my worst nightmare 


Yet
 So beautiful. 


Just a touch and I’m terrified but


Addicted.


I watch your waves of emotion


And I think to myself,


'How beautiful.'

All of the monsters 


Inside you are what terrifies me


Most. 


But when I see the reflection of the 


Light in your eyes,

I


Wonder how something


Could be so


Perfect.