PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

I love her,

just like that.

I love you,

and she throws it back,

decorated neatly,

decorated sweetly.

She allways defeats me.

Fingertips of molten ice seeping

through the sores,

seeping through my

pours.

But it can only prolong.

and then no longer yours.

Her hands dye me red

as she trails them over my fleash.

Bleeding me with her soft caress.

Irony, and curses.

The Irony.

The hurting.

she lays me down and lies with me.

With the same lips she loves me with,

she lies to me.

The irony