Every day I ponder a new death,
I shed a new skin of ways to die
Like a chameleon sheds shades of black.
For today blood drips from my throat,
Tomorrow I turn into ash blossoms and rubble.
And for years to come, king death will reign on my parade;
The tyrant of my sweet lovers soul.
The rope twists arround my neck,
The soft bullet leaves my brain's side,
and the sweet, succulent, poisen kisses my lips.
Let me be pulled to the grave,
Not in peace, but in the chaos of love;
A love -hate bond to the world
That leaves a smeared trail of blood
Behind as a memoir to my life.
I want to be remembered violently,
Tear streams and all; as a sad betrothed sap
Who loved so passionately
That even death followed my every word.
YOU ARE READING
The Neo-Bipolar
PoetryIm actually terrified to share this stuff with you all. I struggle with a lot of demons and really just need the support and superficial attention that I lack. This is continued poetry from bipolar poems, just a new me, some newer thoughts, feelings...
