I am a vessel of veins and bones, a tumor of love that’ll destroy any worth you give to me.
Teeth like knifes that’ll cut through any truth that you may believe.
Call me baby - choke the life out of me until I feel alive.
The heart that you hold is full of thorns, covered in paper mache so you can’t see how ugly it really is.
It’s pretty, isn’t it?
I am a mountain that’ll tumble rocks down on your hands so you’re unable to pick me apart. Just like my broken morals, it’ll be so uneven that you wonder why you ever believed that something so dangerous could be so beautiful.
They say that beauty is in the eye of the beholder and my eyes are as blue as the sky, deeper than the ocean ever will be. They’ll pull you down until you can’t breathe, inhaling water that feels just like love.
My hands carving -
“I love you”
into your back every night like it’s a holy grail. Blood on the bed spring hiding all my good intentions like I had any to begin with.
It feels good, doesn’t it?
The agony, the pleasure I’m screaming into your ears.
It sounds lovely, doesn’t it?
Almost believable, isn’t it?
-
Author:
C.A (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: March 21st, 2023 14:14
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 10
Offline)
Comments2
Sounds great to me haha. Good poem definitely wish you would of left a description explaining more in depth the influence or creative muse behind it
thank you. It's hard for me to make descriptions of the things I write because usually they just come to me during episodes or events that have affected me in some way
I understand. I apologize though I am asking for something that takes a lot of self reflection and self criticism on your part. I guess I want to understand poets more than the poem sometimes
3 more comments
haunting
life is pretty haunting sometimes
now thats poetic
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