i have done you wrong
all i love is falling from my palms,
pressed against my weeping heart.
i have loved the rankness of decay,
for it is known, all that breathes must waste away.
memory is vile to me,
villain it is that turns time stagnant,
the present merely a constant replaying of the past;
it coagulates and curdles
bold love that dares to rule my corrupt heart.
is it that the shade is drawn,
no light to see the craters of my chaos?
can it be that i am merely a shadow
the manifestation of all things
that bear the name sorrow?
i love you
as the stars the glisten on your brow.
you are more to me than air
that pricks my weeping lungs,
with each lonely breath, i call for.
this hurts me to say
i’m sorry i miss you
i love you.
-For there is a hole since you left.
Thank you as always for reading and commenting your thoughts.
” Me and the pen, we are one. If its ink would cease to flow, my ink would cease to flow.”