Jesus Christ,
We were infinite,
You flowed through my veins,
And I almost fucking drowned in your love,
But then one day the river ran dry,
My veins became so empty,
And our infinity was over.
It happened so fast,
That I think I have whiplash,
It was like a car crash,
We saw it coming,
And instead of trying to do something
To save ourselves,
We just screamed at the car to swerve.
Jesus Christ,
We were infinite,
You flowed through my veins,
Your love drowned me,
But the river ran dry,
My veins are empty,
Our infinity is over.
g.c.g
YOU ARE READING
The blossom of a poet
PoetryWords fall softly like the petals from a blossom tree, drifting slowly onto the paper, creating poetry like the spring, beautiful and light, but just like the seasons, the poetry changes, the autumn comes and the words become heavy, falling quickly...
