Tag: #napowrimo

White winter
Drafted on a page, written backwards
To this season’s beginning.
Were we ever the fog
Around our decaying eyes?
Swelled
In the season’s push
Without much to soften for,
In the current light of day.

A plea,
Turned into the sea
Of vast forgiveness
Never believed,
For its smile that enters as sunrise
Upon the defeated horizon
Holds enough for a heart to surmise,
That for where we roam
We shall go.

Travesty begets
The faintest light to cling upon,
Within our landscape.
Our kisses match the red,
As our hearts falter as the dead,
With spilling sunrise
Vain in the transformation
Of coldness into warmth.

Tragedy regrets
Its place to wield the pen,
Telling the place of a story
That never met its end.
Continuing forth,
Spilling secrets abound,
Surging on
With eyes that look around.

Stark sunlight,
Simplest weather
Of failure clinging to shadows,
With sadness creating these shallows
As dust settles, atop.

You tell,
You spell the cause of your woe,
And I come crawling
To ease,
To please you, in pain’s dire flow.
The simplicity
To bereave
When I wear a heart
Stitched on my sleeve.

Calm this,
And do not fuel this.
These urges shall come undone
To bleed you,
To grieve you
On the wires of your heart
Hung from the highest cliff,
Spilling down
Its descent from the crown.

Scorn the beast,
Though fill the emptiness.
I have only
Ever wanted to hold
Your shattered aspect
In broken arms.

Save what leaves,
Of pain that keeps its weariness.
Only to always
Keep such sensation hidden
Inside the skeletal frame,
Within the bare wretchedness.

They have,
Always have
Sought to seal me,
Not to heal me.

To your heart,
With eyes to its worth,
I keep what cannot sleep,
Drowned in its tears.

Holding now
What little remains
Of your porcelain mouth,
Of what words I did contemplate
Under the barest moon,
Lifting my features
Apart from doom,
Healing a heart
That never died for you.

The simplest beat
Of an orb of red
Leaves stains
On the floor, where walks
Decrepit feet,
Bleeding toes,
A horror upon the shoulders
Of a man in his woe.

The cold iron,
The rushing crimson,
With veins that hang the neck,
As arteries turn black.
While the mind holds little
To scorn,
As the hands hold nothing
Being born.

While the silence reminds
A heart, of gravity
To weigh the red into the dead,
Sinking the redness
Into rust.

What were we
Upon a time
When Heaven did open its gates
To endless gusts
Of our curiosity?

We were sentenced to ruin,
With fable, stain in heart,
To the ink
With endless marks
On the empty page.

This love that holds us near
Whites us out in holiest books.
What disused
Colors of ending tracing
That never did forfeit the blaming
We used to sample.

White castles,
Endless scenery
Of kind stories, of cruelest endings
Where the words go missing.

Dark phantoms
Leading our hearts across
The skyline,
The borderline of our designation,

And of something more miserable
Than a heart with a crutch.
Of the veins gathered together
In unwarranted surrender,
Within places
Where we never mattered.

What, when upon a mile,
I can shoulder grief in the harried storm?
Pulling petals
As butterfly wings,
Washing down the ocean’s suds
With my own blood?

My twin and I, apart,
As Heaven seems so dark,
Holy Hell with I,
Feeble, yet alive
With symptoms of sadness in the hair,
Without joy in each of everywhere.

Her eyes, the deepest glimpse
Of everything else I have missed.
Denial and me comes kneeling
To the earth, beyond,
To the altar of sealing.

Something stagnant in the bliss,
Something hushed
In the kiss,
While skies open up,
Same with the mouths
Longing to speak the words
Buried in tempests,
As funerals run onwards past that mile
Of hurried nights, in the love-struck while.

Call yourself down
Beautiful woman with blessed crown,
And bleed your pain, elsewhere.
Do not shed a tear
Lest to heighten our fear.
With bleeding palms,
We crawl,
We hang ourselves
From the colors of our salvation.

With your features
Decked in ivory cascades,
The future can mourn itself, as dark
Waves begin to find us
On the ocean of gray beginnings.
My love,
Run to your nowhere,
For I will find you there
Hoping the final straw is not short enough
To win you over.

Whether to be on Death’s fingertips,
I will scrape you free
From the sickness of tragedy.

Love’s holy hour
Shall reign forever
On the eve of our sunrise.

Seal your tale
In a heart as feeble
With the tremor of continued
Rhythmic beats,
To open wide the crust,
To signal ourselves
Into the rush,
Within the flow
Of nuptiality to conceal this hush,
For finality to connect
To what we know.