I awoke to betrayal.
Madeline slept with my master.
She held his brow in such a way
I never could;
that the creases were no
longer traceable to one's naked eyes.
I pressed the crease
In the leather binding so rough;
it made the cracks in my knuckles
bleed until they were sore and calloused.
The freshly made ink
spills onto the parchment
Paper, the time it took
to memorize and synthesize
with the material caused
my head to crack in spills and drops.
Lord Belmont relinquished the very idea.
I search his eyes for our secret as I
reach for my thigh. I imagine
the holes I made today
will be the ones I shall have
to fill back in tomorrow.
YOU ARE READING
Awkward, Unrequited, Superficial, Toxic, Real Love.
PoetryLove is messy and beautiful. I have been writing poems since I was a teenager. It was my escape. It was and still is a refuge. My 20's are behind me. This book is a small collection of love-related poems that encompass pretty much most of my feeling...
