The skin is stitched poorly,
It hangs like rags over my lungs
That can never keep up
With the spitting heartbeats
Each reverberation shatters
My insides even more
I was never going to be much more
And there were always not enough stars
To sing me to sleep
All they do is stare
Over the moon I leap
To graze their light
And bring it inside my soul
To gain sight
Where is my home?
I want to
Curl my skin out
Scratch it all off
I want to
Leave this planet forever
Hold on to it with everything I got
I want to
Breathe out my loneliness
Believe in something more than God
I want to
Melt into the ground
Fight for what I sought
I bottle my emotions up
Clean, coloured bottles
Their voices eat them up
Until their bellies are glutinous
I know the darkness better
Than I know my happiness
Love was always a treasure
Dull as a gladius
YOU ARE READING
The Book of Fantastical Confusion
Poetry"The most important thing, darling, is to live a fabulous life. As long as it's fabulous, I don't care how long it is." - Freddie Mercury Art, madness and poetry--whatever more could you need? Highest Rankings: #1 in poetry #1 in midnight thoughts #...
