My skin seared by your lingering kisses
Your silence a mark of the purest ignorance
- or discontentment
Your pride simmers down to arrogance
But underneath it all,
I can taste the self-hatred
When you say the word, "destiny"
I hear, "I need divine intervention"
But angels don't stop for those -
who yank feathers, pull hair, spit into the dirt,
and who think they are owed salvation and worship
If there was a golden gate waiting ahead, it'd be pyrite
One day, it'll stop raining - but not for you
You'll find a dark rain cloud in any limitless sky
You'll complain and let it fill your crystal glass
Drink and pray to God for wine, efforts always fruitless
VOUS LISEZ
Loose Teeth
PoésieA poetry collection about the art of letting go and changing under the stains of time. You lose little pieces of who you were in order to evolve. Pull those loose teeth, and make room for something better. Let's grow together.
