PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

My world is nothing but 

a smear of color 

Grasping at whites, Returning 

only with the cold, black inside it

Your abscence,

a Tungsten needle

and I simply 

want the milk and honey of 

your lips 

But they have said nothing.

There is only the hush

The sound of my breath, holding

and I can sense the slight quiver

the sickening quiet

it's cilia spreading like

wild ivy--

a true sign of abandonment.

And I always do this,

always hanging my make believe

God from an imaginary tree

when all I need is to step back

take a long glimpse at your love

your electric ball

how it turns to sky

It's hue like a worn bruise

and here's the real truth

sometimes I chip away

like an old house

where the bones

weren't built right

and the cheap paint starts

to show  

Right now I'm giving 

you my ugliest color

Are you going to love 

me like that? 
Or will your mouth still say

distant things

Because how easy it is- to slide a

finger through one of the cracks

and 

imagine you're the glue holding 

my life together 

but it's not like that. 
Ive grown this bouquet all on my own

36 years of grit and dirt

and I'm still willing to hand it all over

if your hands can stand the thorns

I'm all yours.