Tell me about the winters in your spring
And the way you paint the sky black
Tell me, why shouldn't i stay away
From the holes in your walls,
and your broken glass
On midnight, on the first night
Of the new year
My lover stays alone
He kisses his wine, with promises he can't keep
For the next three hundred and sixty five days
Tell me, why can't your light be bright
And your brushes be white
I planted a tree in the hole of my heart
Maybe you should fill that slot in your wall
With black paint and a hundred lie.
Tell me if love was your enemy
If you fear your drunken state
To fall for another lie
As you kiss the hell out of her pierced lips
And bury your hands under her bare thighs
Tell me if we are alike
As i fear falling for the right
If you like your life with impulsive adventures
If you like your bloodstained nights
Tell me if we are the same
Why can't you be mine?
YOU ARE READING
CHAOTIC.
Poetry2# SLAM January 9th 2019 And you know you're creating art When your heart is slowly falling apart.
