Our hearts are like a Mac-11,
the rapid beats spread in all directions,
I was disconnected from deep affection,
but you lit me up with suppression;
your hollows pierced
through my depression.
As he laid in overt cession,
you've unloaded your magazine
with aggression,
shot him dead,
without question,
you're my only
version of heaven,
and why my soul
has been resurrected.
—
7/28/23
11:01 PM
YOU ARE READING
bittersweet
Poetry• Come experience this little thing we call life with me. All my love, pain and anxiety accepts you with open arms ❤️ • All of my newer work is toward the top. • All poems are self written and original. • Check out my other poems in, "The Words I'...
