Disinfect me,
Inject your cure.
C'mon, do it —
You said you didn't care,
So do it;
Inject the shades of blue inside that glass tube;
Plant your precious rose seeds,
Or would you prefer them planted on my tongue?
Harvest what you dub my 'platinum blood';
You said it was useful.
You always call me your Son Lux,
But what does that mean?
You say that I am your sunlight,
But isn't sunlight 'Solis'?
You say I fit the description,
But the picture is yellow,
Not blue;
You say my eyes hold stars,
But is that really true?
All I feel is a form like gravity;
I am simply a Cavum Nigrum.
You call me your gentle storm;
BlueBud child.
But how can such a delicate flower be a storm?
For you say I am destructive,
Like a cresting tidal wave.
I do not even speak Latin!
So, enough talking,
Disinfect me,
Sow your seeds;
I will be your cure.
YOU ARE READING
PinPoint - A collection of short stories
Random-Mature A collection of short stories.* *This book is the book that I request feedback from especially. I don't really care about votes and whatnot, but please, PLEASE comment. Examples are "I would do..." or "That was..." or "Wow, he/she is..." etc...
