Only in dreams do i grasp a sense of reality
Just seeing you again could break my heart
My dreams are full of young melancholia
All for leaving you at seventeen
I could kill you for not really being here
I wish you would listen to my piano
I wrote it in my basement
The water leaked from the pipe
But that was before
I found that my great-grandfather drowned
A river quiet and serene
Until he gently stepped into it
Then all the fish went crazy
They began to tell lies
"This man was a lunatic"
"This man hated his family"
We've had too many strange deaths
Drugs, my uncle had suicidal thoughts
A garage door closed down on my moms cousin
Now I found that i have drowning in my blood
I love my wonderful boy that has drowned
This poem makes no sense
But i'm getting my thoughts back
That's worth it, it always has been
I love the bastard souls that have drowned
They haunt my dreams, but i adore them
They love me in my fantasies
They're all i have
I love you, my dream boy
With your corduroy jacket
Your terribly cliché name
I love you, my butterfly lover
Why aren't we lovers anymore??
YOU ARE READING
melancholia: a collection of poetry
PoetryThis is a collection of poetry all written by myself The individual poems will be marked as parts with their names. These poems are completely my own. They are the essence of my soul. It's like when you are younger and you just painted something out...
