Shatter me
The aching, hollow pain that carves out the very essence of my heart burns through my veins, filling this fleshy vessel of mine
A mystery that is as obvious as the crimson of raw blood
Bigger than just a muscle tucked away behind my ribs
Working away innocently, never stopping even when I want it to
Pumping blood through my veins along with poisonous feelings and pain
That lits up, a lonely lantern on a gloomy, dark street as soon as the slightest ray of your essence begins to peer in through this stormy tumultuous night
I inhale your presence, basking in it’s warm light
Like a selfish, cold blooded reptile that devours each hopeful ray of light
I let it shatter my glass bones, my fingertips, my heart
This is the answer to my pleas I let it drown me with my blood
Letting the warm, metallic liquid seep through me like paper
Breaking my bones and my soul Embracing it like a painful serenade
A sombre sonnet, a gift that I present myself that bestows my humanity upon me like a crown of blackthorns
Cursed forevermore my own tragedy that I bestow upon myself time and time again that shatters me inside and out
Categories:
blackthorns, angst, emotions, lonely, sad
Form: Free verse
Many years ago, way back in time the month of April was known as the Blackthorn Winter,
It was the time of the year when the blackthorn begins to dress in her finest blossom,
Deep in the country the small hamlets custom says is the time for bitter cold weather,
Time for east and north-easterly hard winds chill all, hail, sleet and sometimes snow.
The blackthorns and the plums in sheltered orchards awaken and begin to come to life,
They quickly showed themselves thickly clustered with tiny little green bursting buds,
Blue whiteness of the blossom half revealed, like the wide smile of a beautiful girl,
A rich white that makes your heart and eyes light up at the sight of unrivaled beauty.
Cold are the winds buds of trees swell and they grow like a naturally beautiful woman,
They come forward and bloom standing cold but fearless, determined to wait for the sun,
On cold grounds a lilac stands it looks so green flushed with it's half-unclosed leaves,
A yellow rose fights to start its new life just as custom says in a Blackthorn Winter.
Categories:
blackthorns, nature, beautiful, time, beautiful,
Form: Prose Poetry
Many years ago, way back in time the month of April was known as the Blackthorn Winter,
It was the time of the year when the blackthorn begins to dress in her finest blossom,
Deep in the country the small hamlets custom says is the time for bitter cold weather,
Time for east and north-easterly hard winds chill all, hail, sleet and sometimes snow.
The blackthorns and the plums in sheltered orchards awaken and begin to come to life,
They quickly showed themselves thickly clustered with tiny little green bursting buds,
Blue whiteness of the blossom half revealed, like the wide smile of a beautiful girl,
A rich white that makes your heart and eyes light up at the sight of unrivaled beauty.
Cold are the winds buds of trees swell and they grow like a naturally beautiful woman,
They come forward and bloom standing cold but fearless, determined to wait for the sun,
On cold grounds a lilac stands it looks so green flushed with it's half-unclosed leaves,
A yellow rose fights to start its new life just as custom says in a Blackthorn Winter.
Categories:
blackthorns, nature, beautiful, time, beautiful,
Form: Prose Poetry