My crude steel exterior,
Warped under the fever of your affection,
You flay me open, peering past the skin,
Delving into my core,
Kindling my tepid heart,
Breathing warmth on imperfections,
Cradling these broken wings,
I am clay in your palms, willing to take on your shape,
Yet you are already fascinated with my entirety,
What have I done to deserve you?
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Author:
yours truly (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: September 20th, 2023 19:09
- Comment from author about the poem: Just a poem from a remote corner of my heart. The sweet ones tend to hurt the most when they let go.
- Category: Love
- Views: 3
- Users favorite of this poem: Soman Ragavan
Offline)
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