Poem #1,763 – “Crying Circus” – Romanticism – 9/8/2021

It was
While we loved to gather rain
To the drunken petals,
That our darkness
Was the faces we kept avoiding.
Our kisses meant the tears,
Our eyes meant the years,
While love
Kept feeding us the rope.

We were
Always on the brink of disaster,
Holding skin as were the blue skies,
Weeping to replace missing droplets
In the ocean,
Eaten by the shore.

I became
The demon you could not face,
The human you could not disgrace,
While wet filth concealed
These brittle fingers
That pulled back to reveal
Just a mask beneath a mask.

The same pain,
The forgotten lane
Where we outlined our bodies,
Murdered for the fields,
Bled for the weeds.
Still dreaming
For the sun,
Still sinking
With the moon.

2 Comments

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s