I love it when you tell me
You'd move the stars for me
Defy the oceans for me
Tame my fears for me
It almost seems real
Like the stage doesn't end
I yearn to know what you feel
Deeper than just a friend
But that's a bottle always sealed
So hard to comprehend
A bottle I once tried to open
Until my finger cut
I didn't know it was broken
I didn't know prying it wasn't enough
Outside the streets you don't remember
Your mouth aching to say my name
Inside the bubble is all pleasure
Just you and me and the game
It feels real when you mend the cuts
Your hands warm and familiar
But every now and then I'm reminded
Of when you put them there, your knife silver
And it all comes back decided
You say my voice makes you weak
You say I light up the day
I say it will be gone in a week
For no one ever really stays
The candle will be used up
Our words will run out
We'll reach the mountain top
And then come back down the end of the route
Whoever knew lies could spark fire
And start a journey to the heavens
All powered by desire
And late night confessions
More naked than friends
But more clothed than lovers
Staring at the pitchblack instead
Because we don't want to be sober
Nothing lasts with a flame this big
Even the brightest stars die quick
Supernovas and quasars
Shine the most intense
You say you'll hold me in your arms
Even if it's just a pretense.
YOU ARE READING
Black isn't a Color ➵ poems
Poetry❝ Black isn't a Color, rather, the inability of light to reflect off. ❞ A collection of poems from the confused soul of an antisocial adolescent, who doesn't know where they belong, and where they don't.
