May it be divine to be hold,
May it be mortal curse to be told,
My heart follows a tread of a fool, —
My dear, at her smile — quick, obnoxious steps I take,
A religion,
In her existence it sins,
Love apprised, in her name it was meant,
My words are senseless, until they are written on her skin
YOU ARE READING
existence within earth
PoetryPoetry in words of a mess, written throughout years of my teenage angst that continues. "Shall wisdom and hell be spoken when my ink turns into blood"
