The lover I could never forgive
The lover I never loved, but could never forget. The one of promises, of storm wraiths and a scowling sky. The one who bred dragons with the malice of a young god. He was careless. He was beautiful, but it was the kind of beauty that poisons. He is the one that words are wasted on, but memory sticks on in the edges, like the prickling in my armpits in spring. He was a decayed body. He was the worst of my mistakes.
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Arcadia
PoetrySpilled thoughts, letters from no one, stories of another time, another place. - || H.R. : #50 in Poetry ||
