Burnt


Twas a time of beauty

The hours of love

 

 

The feeling of care and caring

Soft —

A place to fall

A kiss, a nuzzle, a midnight cigarette:

Things I miss

 

 

I cannot cry,

It seems

For a drought makes my lips

Not so kissable

Was this journey real?

Or, did I dream it?

Was it all a fiction

I don’t know

 

 

I begin to tire

Tired of this world

Tired of constant

Fucking

Struggle and

Ache

 

 

In the beginning

You were such solace

Such hope

Such rest

The Atlantis of a truer heart

 

 

But life

Being what it is

Lashed at you

Lashed at me

Until we became

Nothing like our words