romanticindeed
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Someone told us to not look away.No more to turn awayfrom where we ended a chapter,and closed our eyes. Once, in standing there.Next to hear our sudden heartbeatcontinue its vain deceitfor a love we could never defeat,within everything we did reapunder our feet,beneath doomsday’s clouds, that came from everywhereto gather here,the middle of nowhere. For…
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There, you left. Choosing to bleedfor eternity. Though you will return,coming back for the need,the need to know that your hurtcan continue to lead. Watered eyes replace no drought,reprieve no such effectsupon a disused garden, as your hands tremble in thisdim evening of your fading bliss. Take shelter in more ruins,tell your tale to another…
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A grave. Open and wide, like a mother’s arms. Water comes in from pouring rain, filling up that gap, as the soil absorbs nothing. He sees the scenery in me, the mirror. The mirror, another one of them, although there is only one of me in this corner of Dan’s room. Only one of me…
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Halfway drowned, backwardsfrom being crowned. Our behaviorshave stayed, to fell our grace,have stayed to regain this spacesifted in, like ashes to be lost within.We look back, we turn back,and we are reassured within fissures,spaces that divide,alongside sickness to subside. To take us down, inside Hellish sound.Because we were not meant to belifted for Heaven, and…
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Such attempts to cover your thin form,frail from dust that settles oftenover eyes that have seen snow be debrisfrom clouded nights when pain was free,but you were not pain-free. You listened to these shelled words,captured to an eternal sea,felt at your heart where love was metnear candles, counted, where I first weptwith a smile no…
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Tearstains from both had set,like naked droplets from candles, thin and bare.Their eyes that match those tables,adorned without care. The flavors brought,with appetite crude and fraught in a manwho takes a trembling woman’s hand,He compares her scent, simple and sourto the backyard gardens, without their flowers. Barren, cold, and bleak to behold,a woman told nothing…
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I keep pondering. Looking overyour shoulders and mine,caught in a sudden danceof unified paranoia.I bring you closer to find eyesexactly like mine. I hear your sighscomparable to breezesthat send leaves spiraling.We dance in this continual twist,hearing our names floodedat our decaying feet. All we have committedin these regained hoursis a relit torch. A heart that…
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If those stars can be counted,with the melting candlesbaring their relit wicks withour hearts repeatedly beatingfor no other excuse, no other reasonthat wind will only move usto each other’s arms,as we kiss, beyond our shells,beyond our warming Hell. If our eyes can be found,let us know no soundother than rhythms hearddeep in an ocean, brought…
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Rush. Touch.With faint eyes,limp arms, nothing is everhalfway to being over.We have fallennext to each other,looking at our clouds,dark, but never raining. Barren stage. We are here,counting seconds, beforeanother beginning,another act to begin playingour scores, our shallow insightsinto a betterment,other than simple blights. Will we find somethingbeyond the clouds,beyond haze? A curtain is oftena third…
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I can believeHell has its own rainbow.A grim circumferencestretching over and abroad,like all the shadows we knewthat faded away. An arch above hallwayswithin our minds,painting those indescribable doorwaysa different color than a canvasthat captured no futurefor us to enter. I can believethat those moments were endless.Spent on wasted spacesto move in our shadows,ones that we…
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Those years we everdeplored each other,behind shadows, called doors.We wore sinner’s crowns,keeping shades downon those lights we pretendedwere signs of further hope.How often were we thinkingof wrapping our handsaround each other’s throats? A comforting connection,a deepening reflectionlifted with the waves. If we heal here, we willkill each other in these memories.We will murder our only…
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Wash my deep hopesinto heavy rain. Your handfalls, with every weightupon my heart. I’ve lost that burden,those tears that were an ocean’s depthat that final reused breath. I heard it too many times,enough to carry my sailsforward, over too many stones, never noticing a lighthouseto serve me a serenityI could imagine is deserved. A won…
Modern Romanticism 