Sharp Edges

xeina

Clock is ticking

(Time is evanescent)

These clumsy fingers of mine

are trying to express 

my undying love to you 

but I keep stumbling 

on my dirty fingernails and calloused knuckles

-I give up

Do you want me to write 

about pure silk and concave pillars?

How holy you think I am

No, (my love)

I am made of sharp edges 

and bloody fangs 

and deadly cliffs that leave you breathless

You should learn to fear me

 

  • Author: xeina (Pseudonym) (Offline Offline)
  • Published: February 5th, 2020 04:42
  • Comment from author about the poem: On feeling different.
  • Category: Unclassified
  • Views: 15
Get a free collection of Classic Poetry ↓

✔ Receive the ebook in seconds ✔ 50 poems from 50 different authors


Comments2

  • dusk arising

    Reality versus his perception. Nicely done.

    • xeina

      Thanks!

    • Goldfinch60

      Good write but if that love is there the sharp edges will be dulled through the power of love.

      • xeina

        Thanks, Goldfinch. Or maybe the power of love will shine despite the sharp edges.



      To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.