first about the thing that we are all doing, writing, namely poetry... poetry is derived not from thought but the madness behind thought, the essence that creates the chaos in your mind and entwines the mayhem with the emotion..... now about me.... |
I am a prisoner of you
My heart is shackled to your soul...
The last pedal from the black rose falls
And I'm here holding in my hand that which used to...
Erase our steps as if they never existed
Beat the path our journey smoothed out...
The world is built on excuses
diversions of the mind...
The warm vomit flows through my fingertips as she...
i don't know what to do...
I open my mouth and no voice escapes
merely the haunting hollow sound of heartbreak as...
I stand over a grave,
One that reads not Beloved nor Forgotten...
Your arms are the army of my heart,
Slaying the hate and lies...
Not in life but in death are we freed
from the torment of those who don't know us...
In a world where hate is what is harnessed into...
In a world where families destroy lovers and...
My love once told me, |
"Though love fades the glory shall shine til the last vein runs dry" |
"Love is giving someone the opportunity to destroy you yet trusting them not to." |