your tongue held the truth of life
lips they were a gate
sweet dreams in your eternal sleep
eyes they will bleed
dancing stars in your moonlit eyes
real things don't last
sleep in my bones sweet martyrdom
causing crashes in my head
viscous words on your teeth
biting the spirit of my sparrow
welsh weapons in a happening
it happens that you cried
your dreams of the opera house
wishing you found love in war
instead your father phoned home
peace cried war
stunning constellations connected
in the effervescent fluorescent
of the moon i suppose so
so i let it all go
but you still held on
to a silver screen dream of yourself
where your lungs didn't give out
and your love was eternal
apologies to the choir
the song sang itself
while we cried for her
the world did not
keep me in your pocket
till the film runs out
arabella magnetic to the machine
her heart she was captured
my final touch of her skin
while she still met my hands
comets in her eyes had hit ground
final hours of yourself
YOU ARE READING
if not human
Poetrythe anthology of emotion, the passing of life, the epilogue of pure, unfiltered regret this is "if not human" poems, prose and stories from the dark
