I'm stuck in the middle of your love.
I'm dying from scratches and wounds from every arrow that misses us.
My bloods spilling like ink onto the pages I write for you as arrows strike me from above.
I could always move, but I'm still waiting for one arrow to hit us.
I guess Cupid can't hit black hearts.
I would give you the bow, but I fear Apollo may guide it wrong.
I would start retracing my steps to make this better, but I don't know where to start.
I guess you wouldn't either, since goddesses don't pay attention to mortals for long.
I'll be your lover, just please take me from this place.
I beg you take me or take me away before I bleed out here.
I'll run out of oxygen if I keep begging you at this pace,
But if my last words are for you when I die then I don't care where.
I'll be Zues to your Hera,
But instead you see me as Hades and yourself as Persephone.
But I guess you'll see my love for you in another era,
And maybe one day you'll see that the reason my love is bleeding out isn't because of me.
YOU ARE READING
Undead Poetry.
PoetryLate night poems written by an insomniac, and published here. This'll be my poem collection, and will stay exclusively on Wattpad. I hope you enjoy these poems as much as I enjoy writing them.
