Have I been shredding my soul, tears, skin for nothing?
Were you ever mine?
Did you know all along of a sinking ship that you never planned to sail?
Answer me, true love.
Am i the sinking ship?
We’re lose ends; you and me
conjoining sights over cold coffee
mugs, in areas not a lot can see.
This isn’t the place to be
but the hell in me
adores this no end tyranny
of baseless conversations
and unconscious memorization
of the number of freckles on your left cheek.
Your body, strong yet meek
has learned to seek
in the smoked tiles of a thirty year old cafe.
I know ballet
didn’t work for you.
Blue was my color not yours
And the moon
had been unsparingly mystical
Yet how is it that nothing
seemed brighter than you
as you danced across the open air stage.
Your moves typical,
and in your mininmal
efforts into each
of the violin
made me run
out of air to breathe…
Slowly, unhurriedly, bit by bit
and then all at once,
I became yours.
.Welcome to my Metaphors.
Flash fiction tales of humor, horror and whimsy
A site of an ordinary guy. :' )
If you want to be a hero well just follow me
What matters to you, matters to us.
Words, that shan't be more than mere whispers.
Sinking down, no bottom. Only DOWN forever..
4 out of 5 dentists recommend this WordPress.com site