There’s a haunted secret inside of the Earth,
That swallows us whole, before we ever know.
There’s a way to dig the graves of hollowed gravity.
A cold eclipse of shadowed clumps of cells.
Can you hold the air while you hold their love?
The truth is that in the end, the dead are just that.
Hold me close, and close my hold,
To swing in tune with chaos, truth, ego...
Direct me, I gift to you my praise.
Now, I’m standing on the edge of the world,
The edge of the voids, waiting for the unknown.
Cut me off from these floors so I may float away.
YOU ARE READING
Shattered Amour Propre
PoetryThis is a collection of some of the poems from my book, Shattered Amour Propre. There are a variety of formats made out of raw emotion. Come get stabbed in the heart, collect pollen from the flowers for a smile, and cry about the tragedies that have...
