Its hard to imagine what life would have been like
submerged in waterfalls,
painted by the careless colors of your spine.
You were true to nobody,
which is why I admired the chase you helped me pursue.
I told you secrets, the deepest on the radar,
the ones that were scorned away by the sea,
melting salt into the pores,
stinging away the truth,
the shingle like memories, hang on the roof of my skull,
sheltering the parts of me, I keep for me, and myself only.
Love is like:
Nothing and everything.
The picture perfect button eyes of a child,
the feel of a roses warm caress
the petals take on my warmth, and mold to my skin.
They are shells on the beach,
they wash away between high tide, and low.
What I need is a good shower,
to cleanse myself of the cuts,
and the dirty battle fields of this war-love,
the kind that screams until your eardrums burst,
until the rhythm of dying is how we learn to make love.
I plug my ears, and dodge the bullets in slow motion,
You shelter me, after you shoot me.
As I lay,
my back to the worms,
I see the sky,
nothing but sepia tone bursting from the clouds,
If you look into my eyes,
you'd find love.
But you keep your eyes on my chest,
you follow the beats of my heart,
You have come to worship me on my deathbed.
I am the hallow woman you've come to read about.
I have housed your thrusts,
which trickled down my leg and left me,
After hours of promises whispered into sheets.
You'll never leave me.
Of course not,
it never just goes away.
Physically, you will remove yourself.
Mentally, you remain just as clear as the sun.
I was at war with myself,
throwing grenades at the mirror,
You sad man, the only song I've sung for you
wasn't a song at all,
it was a a battle cry, long forgotten.
But as the sounds quake from behind my throat,
every woman who has ever lost,
cries.
Where is love now?
The paint is chipping from my face,
and my blue lips frighten you as we embrace.
My pure skin,
cold and sad,
like the voice of a violin.
It fades in the corners of your mind,
and you sleep.
Love is: I am-
Sleeping.
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A serious one-two punch to my soul. I love it.
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