A shortage of love in this world, desperate
We feel, we endure, too much and not enough
Crumble to dust at the very first contact
Break apart the moment weary gazes meet
Parched throats struggle to swallow down the dry thirst
Lusting for a tender touch to hold us up
We drown, falling down this stupid rabbit hole
I don't even want you
Love, only made to destroy us in the end
Burning for a closeness made of your poison
Demons' whispers bury me in your fragrance
Hunger will take any precious piece of you
My dead heart slips between your scrambling fingers
Lonely fragments disappearing from your touch
There is nothing left inside this hollowed husk
But what do I care?
Bitter empty spaces beneath my bosom
Give everything just to keep you by my side
Just do us the favour and let me have it
Feral fever burning in your icy blues
Tell the ugly creature of my night and day
When you look through the crazed colour in my eyes
When you stare into my sorry shattered soul
What do you see?
YOU ARE READING
Scratches On My Gravestone
PoetryA collection of poems written by little ol' me, created to be discovered, but not remembered.
