PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Too much space,
I grab the air around me trying to draw it in 
But I've cleaned you out like a dirty sin.

Never knew how warm and comfortable the ugly side of love is
Touching the untouchable, to kiss the impossible kiss 

I guess I thought pushing you out would leave me feeling like saint
Theres not a colour in my soul I haven't used in our love's hidden paint
The richest and darkest darks hiding lightest brightest sparks 

I'm desperate for your connection, that indefinable thing 
The pleasure of pain, nestled under broken wings

The crackling electric static hunting our souls to beat life into our hearts
We live in a life not made for us. Instead crossed with many other beautiful paths.

The patterns we've woven in our times apart all needing threading and tending. No end, no new start. Just empty spaces waiting to be filled in our hearts.

And though I gasp like a fish out of water for your breath,
I know the trails of our patterns cross paths and that our threads play off eachother, shining brighter and bolder than any other kind 

But now I pay my pennance waiting for the next day, when we find our way and I can breath life in again.

1st Draft

Too much space i grab the air around me trying to draw it in 

But I've cleaned you out like a dirty sin.

Never knew how warm and comfortable the ugly side of love is

Touching the untouchable, to kiss the impossible kiss 

I guess i thought pushing you out would leave me feeling like saint

Theres not a colour in my soul i havent used in our love paint

The richest and darkest darks hiding lightest brightest sparks 

But im desperate for your connection, that indefinable thing 

The pleasure of pain, nestled under broken wings

The crackling electric static hunting our souls to beat life in our hearts

We live in a life not made for us. Instead crossed with many other beautiful paths.

The patterns we've woven in our times apart all needing threading and tending no end no new start 

And though i gasp like a fish out of water for your breath

i know the trails of our patterns cross paths and that our threads play off eachother and shine brighter and bolder than any other kind 

But now i pay my pennance waiting for the next day when we find our way and i can breath again.