The sheer thought of you makes me drunk.
A slick sheen you cover my body with is sticky to the touch.
My bed is no longer for sleeping,
But instead for dreaming.
Dreaming of you,
And your black hair,
And your face,
And your eyes so deep,
If you dropped a penny,
You'd never hear it land.
Keep holding me at arms length,
And I will wait forever;
Grateful that your hands are gripping me at all.
A mantra is rotting in my brain,
But despite what I tell myself,
You are not just another face.
You are the face,
The face of peace and tranquility,
The face I live for and the face I long for.
At least look me in the eyes when you twist the knife.
It'll make it all the more tantalizing,
For you and me.
-
Author:
jm (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: September 13th, 2016 17:20
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 36
Offline)
Comments6
His is a very well done write....excellent work here
I absolutely love this poem. There is such a vivid picture of a tranquil scene in my mind. Keep painting those pictures with your words. Amazing.
Thank you both so much. It means a lot to me to get such positive feedback!
Awesome write m very vivid in image
There is such a longing for something that you know in the end will never work. The twisted knife was chilling. Oh! You got me!
Awesome write! I could feel the passion and despair in your words, Enjoyed this piece very much...
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