Hanging on the curvature of every word
You never said
Missing in your message
Are the letters in my head
Making sense of all these mind warping bends
Cursive writing,within my blood
Dripping, spinning webs
Revealing the DNA beneath
The masquerade
blood
Sunday wordle 314
There is a gust of wind
Trifling through these rivers of blood
And for a moment I hesitate
I sense I might be too late
Can’t protect you
From the hammer about to fall
So I guess we’ll
Have one epic night
Before the curtains call
Razor blades and finger nails
Razor blades and finger nails
walk the contours
of your body
Seeking Rivers of blood
hoping to be a crack
in your dissatisfaction
Heavy exhalation
isn’t enough.
(c) 2016 March
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Crimson red
On our breaths
Secrecy lingers
We don’t know why
But we’re like
Strangers
We never meant
For this to last
Wipe it all away
It’s in the past
But still we’re stood here
Melancholy whispers
In the breeze
A silence that lingers
Like a ghost amongst the trees
All the blood that has been shed
In secrecy
Will mess with our heads
And you will walk away
Nothing said
Just a stream flowing through it
Crimson red
(c) 2015
silverbackgorillapoetry.com 