Wounds.
i. Bind my precarious wounds,
With the tenderness he neglected to provide.
ii. Whisper alighted words of beauty,
As we lay in our world of hazed smoke.
iii. Throughout this state of madness,
I promise to you we will be better upon the arrival of day.
iv. You began to embrace my acid tears,
Injecting them into your veins, ever more reducing my self inflicted pain.
v. I regrettably never proved to you my affections,
Yet only when I was screaming for your return to my embraces.
YOU ARE READING
We Called it Love.
PoetryA collection of tales written by a depressed poet. Inspired by the boy who promised he'd never break her. These are the faults in my heart.
