Moments passed
Such a quiet illusion
Of salty teardrops in blood shot eyes
Swollen little faeries in the aether night
Of the biting loneliness
Plaguing
Purging
Wait for me
My dying child
To take the open, bleeding wounds
Give you comfort when none is real
And take those
Truths
Away
Death is coming
Biting at red, raw toes
Frostbite turning tender legs
Such an icy blue
Caressing hips
Tickling at bellies
Rubbing up such cherished
Perfect chests
Coming
Oh so closer
To bleeding fingertips
And touch a precious face
But I can take the truth away
I can save you from your painful life
I can
CRUSH
Those hated memories
BREAK
The rotted bones
TEAR AWAY
That cherished flesh
And take away the pain
Author notes
Notes... notes... I don't know exactly why a poem needs notes, but here goes...
I haven't written much in awhile, and when I finally decide to put the pen on the page, something like this comes out. I wrote that while on a ten minute trip to Moses Lakes "Park and Rec Department", where I've been "Volunteering" my time to cleaning up the city, to a point. I got back home and decide, "Hey, why not post it?" So I start writing it out, changing it about -- like I always do in these situations -- and give it form, posting it. So that's how this came to be. The only title that came to mind when I wrote it out was "Artisan", which I think is a bit strange, but after double-checking the meaning of the word, I think it suits it, perfectly.
And that's how this came to be.
Sacrifice your Critiques unto me:
Comments
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Oh,and I liked the part of crushing,breaking and tearing away certain things in order to take away the pain,seems ironic,doesn't it, but i loved it.
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Wait for my
that second stanza,shouldn't it have been "wait for me" instead of wait for my? or were you trying to I don't know. . . write "my" twice? Besides that i thought it was a good poem specially how it originated,and I liked that part about taking the truth away. Good work,really.
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