Mourn
Your eyes plunged into my heart, I see nothing but sweet memory.
digging out imperfections I hate.
You point,
I dig.
Bowed onto your feet, craving perfection for my love.
I shall not stroke thy hair,
I shall not stroke thy lips with the fingertips of mine.
Blood curdling cries I hear,
What's wrong?
Why?
Given up and startled of what may come,
Used.
Mourn my all into this pool of
mistaken misery.
Let me go,
Let me go,
I'm half way faded.
Copyright © Julia Wolff | Year Posted 2013
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