Poems, thoughts, and ramblings.
come to me,
in love.
with your passion,
in a fury.
bring to me your sin,
keep for me your dark.
let us lie in it,
unclean and imperfect,
wrapped in our shroud.
come to me,
in earnest.
with your open eyes,
in your painted skin.
bring to me your horror,
keep for me your heart.
let us tear them asunder,
wretched and irredeemable,
a violent unforgiven joy.
I have fallen, faithless, at the feet of a stranger,
sought solitude in open arms and found the sound of home
in beating veins, and thrumming heart.
we dance, and the sound is thunder,
we sing, and the world becomes a stranger.
what fate is love, but bittersweet?
what horror, what ecstasy, what dream?
if I could, I would fill every minute with you.
even as my hair sits graying, in my youth, and my skin becomes new and old at once,
I would sit and fill my breaths with your mouth and my hands with your skin.
as time, that bitter mistress, flew her hurried head around our ticking clocks and days,
I’d never regret those moments, for they, as you, are precious.
let the planets spin as they may around our burning sun,
and let man measure their passing, let them quantify the infinite as they must,
but let me keep you, in this moment and every moment, with me.
let me not chase you down these empty roads,
always two footsteps behind your voice that says, “I tried.”
I am thankful for the broken hearts which came before mine.
for bleeding romantics who wrote sonnets, reminiscent of lost love and dire yearning;
for young lovers departed and never returning, for dreams which died upon waking and poison roses in the courtyard.
I am thankful for the ones who lost, before I ever knew what there was to be found.
for the silhouette of a drowning lady, asphyxiating in a room of only air and empty shells;
for the sounds of footsteps carrying across the last road we’ll walk together.
iamwhatshewrote 