As the burning liquid hits
my throat, I feel lovesick.
It's pulsing, my love.
I need my psychiatrist.
She will tell me that's it's lust.
Love is such a strong pill.
Bubbles of the beer,
red kisses on her white shirt.
I stole her and said I'm going insane.
I called her while she was in a meeting.
I said, it's not just my heart aching.
It's my body aching for her touch.
My psychiatrist pours the wine
on me, owning me.
All her other patients looked at me
with grief, their gaze like flames.
With every rope she has tied me with,
with kiss she has placed down there,
with every hit that she has made my
eyes rolls back -
I guess I need more.
~Sampurna
YOU ARE READING
Ink And Echoes
Poetry♚ ❛ Juliet, Tell me what is it like to vanquish - When you tossed the coin, And stepped on the battleground, With the accent of swords. Still you stand, Hands dripping of sin. In search of Romeo, You killed, And killed, And died. ❜ { Highest rank in...
