He is my past, my present, and my future,
Who left this morning
Because besides his night terrors,
Only my voice can wake him.
We fight until the last drops of my energy water the ground
And weeds, in the form of moth orchids, sprout from our corpses.
We die as grape vines intertwine,
Even in death, remaining entangled
And producing intoxicating wine.
I hope that ring is freshly fused,
So that my finger bears a scar with your name
And the smell of burning flesh is wafted into a candle.
I do not long to be touched while drenched in fury
Because I hate the sound of sizzling skin
And fear drawings of irises on my complexion.
Hold my hair back as I choke and plead
Because you love tracing the shape of my face
As I lay here in white outlines.
Make love to me as I drown underwater,
So that I experience ecstasy and death simultaneously.
As you fill my lungs with liquid lies,
When I no longer puke words and kisses,
Place me in your garden and force oranges into my mouth.
Then, every summer will be fruitful,
Never going hungry again.
YOU ARE READING
An Ode to Muses to Melpomene
PoesíaThis poetry collection explores love, toxic relationships, heartbreak, and a dash of possessiveness. Don't fall in love while reading it! If you are in love, angry, sad, or going through a heartbreak, pick up a copy and you'll probably find somethin...
