Lights into nights
Those burnt in moments we have left behind,
their shadows still exist I did find.
On the walls of times fading string,
those shadows still loudly boldly sing.
The melodies heard in reflections ears,
the worries, depression, and the fears.
The longer a moments shadow lasts,
the more times in refection it is cast.
These shadows dampen out the minds light,
moments turn reflections into night.
Kissing death
I have been kissing my death,
giving up my needed breath.
Putting thoughts in my head,
the ones buried, the ones dead.
The soft touch of her lips,
death, her saliva slowly drips.
Her soft and gentle cheeks blush,
oh, her presence and amazing rush.
The firmness of her tight hold,
around her my arms cross and fold.
Heartbeat faulters to a pause,
each loving kiss the cause.
I'm giving up my breath,
kissing the lips of my death.
Loving the taste of the drips,
and the touch of her soft lips.
The presence of her feel,
deaths kiss so pleasantly real.
Slowly coming close touching me,
watching, wanting what I foresee.
The wetness of the kisses applied,
this beautiful death on my eyes side.
Taking the air from my breath,
I'm kissing her,
I'm kissing my death.
-
Author:
Maplespal (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: February 21st, 2025 06:02
- Comment from author about the poem: On a firm mattress, when I lay on my back, double pillow under head, after a few minutes my chest feels like it has caved in. I can feel myself fading away. It happened once where I stopped breathing. My love had to pound my chest a few times to bring me back. Ever now and then, I will find myself recreating the moment up to but before I stop breathing. Getting closer in some strings of trying. I kiss my death. I have a few shadows that cloud my view at times. Also, I heard the Line "I finished kissing my death...." in the song "Why Am I The One" by the band "Fun".
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 12
- Users favorite of this poem: sorenbarrett
Offline)
Comments2
In the first there is strong reverberations of the past and it seems that the more distant the louder the volume. A wistful write. In the second your note helps understand but reading it before I had a feeling that it was connected to the first and was an acceptance of loss so deep that death was the answer. Both lovely writes so well written in good meter that they deserve a fave
I never looked at the second as a reply for the first, but yeah good catch, story line wise. I wrote the second poem first if that matters.
,,It matters not emotion knows no order. Poetry is created by the author from inside of them but interpreted by the reader from inside of them and if it happens it becomes a beautiful blend never intended by either.
Excellent writes
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