of love and decay,
because our hearts are wired
to love and rot
-
highest rankings
#2 in sadpoem
#3 in free verse
#4 poesia
#1 in melancholia
#5 in darkpoetry
#10 in prose
#19 in anthology
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
my baby has divinity in his lips and gilded moons in his chlorinated veins. he likes to paint my body flaming tangerine and coral with his terracotta fingertips. he feeds me honey syrup lies glazed with the galaxy's stardust, he tells me he loves me (not) and like a blinded devotee i believe him.
there is smoke in his lungs from the tarred dreams that broke before he could touch them. he makes me believe i am a golden god, but in reality he's the god and i his puppet. i like to run my fingers through his sun drenched locks while he sits at the edge of the beach, half submerged in the saline ultramarine. we kiss as the sun dips into the lavender and blotched pink horizon. i gaze at his undying beauty as the dusk fades to night, till my eyes are saturated with the sight of him and the phosphorescent waves that engulf his caramelised body.
silken lies roll of his tongue frictionlessly, he tells me i am the only one for him as he wraps his nicotine stained lips around the base of my neck. i melt into him and let him mould me into whatever he wants. he caresses my bronzed epidermis, while i try to sculpt my molten candle wax skin into the perfect girl for him. its a vicious cycle really, of him lying and me believing him like a fool.
