I have this idea swirling in my head about a love story turned murder/suicide but I terrify myself dreaming it up.
It is said
that revenge
Is best served
cold.
But the thing is
rage is hot
mercy, sweltering
and laughter,
frozen.
Revenge makes a person cold.
a body indefinitely colder.
and like a sea monster,
its tentacles reach from the depths
like a hunter longing for ivory,
tracing your mind
with what you could do.
But you only end up shooting
yourself.
YOU ARE READING
Acts of Rain ||a collection of poetry|| #Wattys2016
Poetry((Look at how dramatic past me kinda made this description)) //older poems are kinda shit// Same old empty feelings. So I've tried writing poetry now.. Mostly more on the sad side, but I am not you, the reader, and pain and beauty are viewed diff...
