Untitled 11
This old love is unendurable:
its bough breaks in the breeze;
its frosted buds crack and splinter;
it's a heart stitched to a razor sleeve;
its wrists split and bleed and stain
like a shadow escaping whilst being
illuminated by the moon's swan glow at midnight-
she's not simply a marble pebble, we're all midnight's
bride, completely sacrificed at the altar, unknowingly perishing.
But without it, the naked flesh peels in the rain to reveal an
empty centre; he does not know that I love him with no heart.
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
