Seven a.m.
Expiring.
I'm wrapped up in your ghost.
Pale sheets against your
Skin;
We abandon earthly host.
Your eyes are light and lucid
They drip across your face.
Your lips are dark and
Ruby
They leave a bloody trace.
You murmur sweetest
Lullybye
In a gruff and gruesome voice.
Sweet Irish tongue and accent
Had to be my choice.
Our limbs and legs fold together
In a tired sort of
Stance.
Fingertips across bare skin;
We gave this world a chance.
So whisper with me,
Darling.
Sing away the breeze.
I sleep inside your soul
And hide among the trees.
YOU ARE READING
Short Thoughts.
PoetryAll those thoughts that end before their developed; all the potential stories that were cut short or simply ran out of meaning; all the words you wanted to say. Come here for inspiration, ideas, or just to fill the time. You are 221% allowed to take...
