A Mind Infinite

Infinity: The Views of a Dreamer

Tragic Love

Every time I place my hand over my love’s hair,

it turns into a sharp set of dead twigs carving into my weak palms

Weeping, the tears mix with my blood drizzling all down her rosy cheeks ,

telling her it’s going to be alright, it will be alright

Covering her eyes with my bloodied hands,

the iris turns to a bleak marble black cracking into dust

My heart bursts in my chest,

woe despairs me, can’t handle the sight

Her palms strike against my face,

turning it into sulfur

My body disintegrates in her arms,

our bodies combust into fire burning with the passion of young lovers hearts

Smoke rises with our love,

as the dusty carpet of the dusty motel room ignites

When the gas blows and our becomes ashes,

we’re floating off to a better place of the autumns crisp air

Image

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

Information

This entry was posted on May 18, 2014 by in Poetry and tagged , , , , , .

Aaron

Blog Stats

  • 7,158 hits

Most recent

A Mind Infinite

Infinity: The Views of a Dreamer

The Espresso Stalinist

Wake Up to the Smell of Class Struggle ☭

fading aesthetics

once up a time, arthur rimbaud started drifting from charleville to paris ...

Style and a Half

Vancouver-based illustrator, writer, style blogger

Charlie the Poet

Welcome to the world of Charlie, a poet who defaces paper tigers.

The Daily Post

The Art and Craft of Blogging

The WordPress.com Blog

The latest news on WordPress.com and the WordPress community.

%d bloggers like this: