Modern Romanticism

No matter the clouds
Overprotecting my crumpled heart
With beats that enter the sea,
Poured from my chalice of tears,
Here I remain
To hurl my arms around
The closest you.

Faces still life,
As life stills faces,
Of waters to masks so gentle,
Among terrors that captivate the false.
I am here to beg
For some tinge of simplicity
That can purge the me from myself.

I drown
In feelings, unremembered
By you,
For you take to the sails
Without needing to swim,
Without needing to bathe
In this heat.

The heart
That still aches
Requires a kiss,
For I can swallow air
Without cautioning myself
To death’s heavy stare,
As I can hold you, without finding myself.