Broken glasses
Stained in rose blood
Grey tiles,
Watery shadows
That longer in the dark curtains
Rotten thoughts.
A yellow petal
Fades in the brown
Damp soil of poetry.
Dark blue eyes that pour
As much as they could
Echoing all through the balcony.
Chasing green
Perfumes her heart
With burning breathes
And blinking thoughts.
Hear the loud silence
Under the lamppost.
Broken delight, soothing pain.
A single word, bleeding her heart
throughout.
And, it's all done.
___________________________
A/N: Can you kindly vote before going away? Thanks!
YOU ARE READING
the slow art of breathing bitter
Poetryslow dancing love and pain in the midnight chorus of liquor-washed autumn green ... || a constellation of destructive poetry ||