I hate that you sky rocket my emotions.
The passion I have to not want the feelings that dwell inside me,
Are what tear me apart in the end.
My eyes burn at the sight of you,
With tears yearning for what will never be.
A smile from your lips,
Close or far,
My heart skips in seeing such ecstatic beat.
Especially your eyes,
And the way they are,
The beauty in their gleam.
But alas,
We are not meant to be.
My mind twitches hoping that it'll receive,
Those reactions for my heart and my soul.
As my eyes close.
That is all I see.
The hope in being with thee.
The reality of it,
A lonesome tale.
Known as broken,
But not entirely hell.
-
August 16, 2014
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Decadence Hackneyed
PoetryTo decline unoriginal works bears Decadence Hackneyed. First poetry book in the Expostulate Series. A personal reminder to stay original. Written in 2013-2016.
