The Suicidal
I thought you the most beautiful of women
Only waiting for you to come again
Knocking on my door at sunset lonely evening
I see you again and again
In so many tall and elegant bodies
And the fantastic turn of the head
The voice see-saw me in its ripples
And I will say that love is dead
And we are only cemeteries now,
All of us. I tried not to worship self,
To be different from your selfishness
In the end I opted never to suffer again -
And love fell bleeding at my feet.
Copyright © David Smalling | Year Posted 2013
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