This type of love is raw and unclean
It butchers before washing its hands
And doesn't clean up the mess afterwards.
This type of love is desperate and longing
It feels you staring at him and wishes you adieu! Adieu!
Begone from the world of kept promises and nurtured young families!
His type of love is fleeting and precious
Pearl necklaces strung about the neck of a prostitute,
Not concerned with carnal pleasures.
My love is philosophical and true;
A blue jay singing for hours on end, fascinated with a broken and rainy sunset.
Our love is consequential and nonexistent.
A plane whose engine died before it reached the atmosphere
A sloth rushing to the side of the road only to be hit
And a star, shimmering the last ounces of light onto a stage
Where a drunk actress is bound to her body.
YOU ARE READING
Songs for the Simple Unknown
PoetryA collection of poems about various topics including life//death//love// and the unknown. All are my own. *WARNING* mentions suicide