You came like a whiff of lemon-scented cologne—
To my flaring nostrils,
Burning my lungs to crave more.
My heart was a swelling violin—
Swollen red in the hazy fog:
A pale pink shade to forget the last thirty-one seconds.
For I was an abandoned soul—
That got cherry-red in pain.
You came running insane; the rain came down slow.
But that was a second's dream
To see Cupid for one last time.
I was broken, and you fiercely melted me.
Your ripped jeans and black shirt—
Like washed pavements after a summer shower.
A certain glow I can easily fall for.
For you were Cupid, and I was broken-winged:
Seeking ways on our own
Until you drove me slow and down.
I wish we had met there in December light.
You'd wipe my tears away
and be my porcelain on that cold night.
But you came and went away
Like a whiff of citrusy cologne—
My eyes burnt to see you, but you were already out of my way.
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A/N: Well, this was something that actually happened to me, minus the heartbreak part. How about you? Any sort of such incidents in your lives as well? Well, kindly vote anyway. Thanks! :)
YOU ARE READING
the slow art of breathing bitter
Poetryslow dancing love and pain in the midnight chorus of liquor-washed autumn green ... || a constellation of destructive poetry ||
