Like A Moth To Flame
My heart starves
for a pulse to warm the static space
in the quiet nights between
streetlights that still glamour my gazing shadow
and the heart that feeds me to the flames
“I have lost my dewdrops!” Cries the flower to the morning sky that has just lost all its stars... All bleeding stops eventually. I am but a collection of particles, atoms that chose to suffer in unison.
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home