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no title

Contributed by meadcomposition on Tuesday, 15th January 2008 @ 09:34:43 AM in AEST
Topic: DarkPoetry



Metal
edges.
They shine on the wan of my angry wrists.
Ruby babes, floating from their long time hiding places beneath my skin.

Maybe I thought that you would come back.
Maybe I thought that this would bring you home?
I'm only a fool. If every inch of me, instead of just a few, were crying crimson streams of love,
It would still remain:
the fact that
there's no time for one, when you have another.

Now my outsides just look like my insides.
Now there's not much left to hide,
My heart wasn't in this..
only my mind.

I promised I wouldn't do it again.
You promised you wouldn't leave..
What's really the difference?




Copyright © meadcomposition ... [ 2008-01-15 09:34:43]
(Date/Time posted on site)





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Re: no title (User Rating: 1 )
by jesusofholland on Tuesday, 29th April 2008 @ 01:57:42 AM AEST
(User Info | Send a Message)
Touching and sad. Hopefully you wont do it again! I suspect that now he has another child, and it's hard for you to accept when he will not visit. Hard to overcome, but there are much better ways than releasing streams of crimson. Good write. Very personal. I enjoyed this.




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