Guilt sure is a sweetness upon my bitter tongue. A tongue that has spoken many regretful words, to people I’ve known to love. And I’ve grown tired of myself… I reflect in these thoughts, knowing that the pain is like building blocks to create a…
“A memory is much alike the waves of an ocean, in recession. And, when they recede from your feet, they’ll return, to throw tiny droplets as high as your nostrils, so you’ll breathe in whatever scent they have always come to you across. Whether they…
I’d be compassionate and merciful enough, to hold back a woman from such a diseased realm, as the “political world”. It is never a “restriction from rights”, in my mind, as a woman can do all she wishes. Though, if something like a man’s compassion,…
We’ve grieved a number of times, Enough to starve ourselves of woes and goodbyes, Enough so that we’ll yearn to stay in arms and sighs, With faces marred by tears and excessive pleas Upon that which humanity has come to see, A love of our…
Oh, realm of the wicked, where dreams drop from hands like droppings from the bottom of a bird; there is much admiration to stick upon beauty to admire; why withhold what should be offered? Love will lift it, beyond the realm of Men, where flesh…
I picture thee, open and empty,With palms facing your knees,And eyes upon the surest sign,Of life with broken wings. Kisses are gentle when they are spokenAs well as simply given. Kisses are harsh when they bite,And retract with a mouthful of flesh. I am sure…
Your eyes sparkle youth into being, But, what strength, And, what weakness, I behold, in this feeling! Without description, all that remains Is pure and undeserved pain, Stemming from life that built itself, Upon immoral and unneeded strife. I name all pleasure as our fortune,…
Sickness is a place in each other’s mouth,And alike it all, you’ve shown a trace of a future,Unclean upon the crawling filth,Upon the knees of some horrid Monarch.He’d shown no kindness,It was as the books had wrote,He believed in worships too unclear to see,And made…
“Men are each wound on Christ’s form, and each droplet is the renewing of any heart having bled enough to either love or commit a murder; in both forgiveness and committed atrocity, that is what Christ reveals. The pain it requires to love and the…
