I don't know why, but you are my oxygen.
Every gasp,
Giggle,
Raspy voice,
Pneumatically driven into my throat.
I'd hate to see you smirk.
That look you give, like bronze daggers which want me to die alive, sinking pitifully into my chest.
You'd find nothing there.
It's hollow.
Because you had already taken,
Already bore under my skin,
Mined silver crystals, my essence I suppose.
And didn't care to sow me back up again,
Just as you wanted
And I'm now in a heap,
Begging,
Pleading,
To,
Stop.
My life is invisible,
Pleading,
And it,
Stops.
_______________________________________
When I told you, darlin', that I'm crazy, never necessarily meant it was true.
I'm crazy
You make me crazy, for you.
I'd never thought you'd get this upset.
Please do not cry into your dress,
Or smudge that lipstick,
Cos we're both dead, we did this to ourselves
And indeed, or undead, we are both maniaclly bonkers.
_______________________________________
You and me sweetie pie, together.
YOU ARE READING
Poetry. Dark.
PuisiThis collection of poems is dedicated to anyone who has tried to live but events have led them astray It is a mix of dark, somewhat rediculous and poems of the heart, all written to help myself get through the last couple of months Some of these poe...
