Parsimonious

Parsimonious

  • WpView
    Reads 1,163
  • WpVote
    Votes 2
  • WpPart
    Parts 61
WpMetadataReadMatureOngoing9m
WpMetadataNoticeLast published Tue, Jun 27, 2017
WpInfo
Poetry
Love is a tortuous thing, its own being. It fills the air with its aura, surrounding you all. What is it? Love is the sound of your still beating hear being ripped from your chest, Love is the taste of your tears pouring from your eyes and trickling onto your lips, Love is the smell of burnt out cigarettes and spilt vodka seeping though the grains of the carpet, Love is the touch of a gentle hand caressing your cheek and tracing over every inch of your body that left long ago, Love is the sight of crystal hearts shattering, bleeding from the inside out. And all I can do is hope she doesn't recapture me. Step gracefully, as to not cut myself on my broken glass, All I can do is run away, and hope she never finds me again.
All Rights Reserved
Join the largest storytelling communityGet personalized story recommendations, save your favourites to your library, and comment and vote to grow your community.
Illustration

You may also like

  • Him, The Galaxy and The Darkness
  • Troubled love
  • Ice To Meet You
  • Thank you, Killua (Gonkillu)
  • Flowers & Drugs
  • Too Complicated
  • ~Trust Me ~
  • The Healing Hearts.
  • Broken Love
  • Poems of Pain and Solitude

This is my poetry/ventings/stuff My poetry is basically inspired by many things, such as songs and feelings and dreams but mainly about my ex-lover... Every thought is about him. So... This is for my lover. I love you.

More details
WpActionLinkContent Guidelines