My tid bits of poetry

 

The three things I would tell you if I could ,

 

I’m sorry to have failed you sweetie

If fate had not twisted me so,

hearing the faint sound of your radio,

If only the disdain you see was not pity,

For if I could change I would write your name in graffiti,

pleading for the world to see that you are a pharaoh,

Yet you aim at my head with a crossbow.

 

A boy took hold of you with a gun,

Tore through you like a lion would it’s princess

I put pleasure before you,

I can not hold your hand as it is gone,

I let drugs make me skinless,

If only you knew, I would change for you.

 

 

Spiraling love

 

It’s all spiraling down,

whirlwinds gushing through an open wound.

A vortex of pain, agony, sustenance, survival,

Aches as it tears within,

I ponder why we fall in love at all?

Desire is just an ache

Desire is just a fluke

I can’t seem to understand the guilt of being

in love with this desire

in love with the fluke

I ponder why I can’t tell you the happy news

I’m in love with the ache

I’m in love with the tears

I can’t seem to understand why it has to stay beneficial

Desire to addiction

Desire to pleasure

We seek out what we can’t have ,

and if I can’t have you

I won’t be pleading for my life to end

Whirlwinds gushing through an open wound,

Vortex of pain, agony, sustenance, survival

It’s all spiraling down in the beneficial love affair.

 

Whispers of death

 

If it all ends tomorrow

there wouldn’t be a single shred of doubt

A single shred of worry

Moments shredded into the abyss of a world

forgotten within the ending of our story

Do we freeze when we see it?

Do we crawl into the light?

Do we jump into the raging fire?

Brakes squeak as the last seconds

twist from your body

A twig strikes right through

Did you manage to finish that text?

Did you forget to tell someone you love them?

Did you forget the never ending sorry’s?

Is there guilt strewn within your head as you,

forget the one’s who actually gave a damn,

forget the people who only pretended to be there?

Quality always came before quantity,

Will people actually show up at your

funeral? like proper?

I always found your abrasiveness to be ,

a massive problem with us

you care only about you,

Checking facebook, constantly having people around you,

doesn’t the noise tear you?

doesn’t all the noise blind you?

But alas, if it all ends tomorrow ,

I’ll remember the little you cared,

A single shred of worry

will caress my back as I walk away from

A decorated coffin.

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