I Write Poetry
Flower petal band-aids, cover glass scars.
Poetic words as well as razor blades slide off the tongue clicking and chipping away at the puzzle pieces of our fake smiles inside.
Celestial fires glow while silk shadows are sewn to their backs like wings, screaming they cry stardust into our eyes.
We build blanket forts in thunderstorms and recite synthetic eulogies to our imaginary friends, charcoal diamonds and black ember pearls float in a stream of consciousness bubbling from a spring of madness.
When doubt eats every last drop of light from the night sky we shatter our hearts to make new stars.
As time rests its head on pillows stuffed with broken dreams, jade marbles like river stones make the bedrock no less harsh but at least it's a pretty, hard fall.
Poetic words as well as razor blades slide off the tongue clicking and chipping away at the puzzle pieces of our fake smiles inside.
Celestial fires glow while silk shadows are sewn to their backs like wings, screaming they cry stardust into our eyes.
We build blanket forts in thunderstorms and recite synthetic eulogies to our imaginary friends, charcoal diamonds and black ember pearls float in a stream of consciousness bubbling from a spring of madness.
When doubt eats every last drop of light from the night sky we shatter our hearts to make new stars.
As time rests its head on pillows stuffed with broken dreams, jade marbles like river stones make the bedrock no less harsh but at least it's a pretty, hard fall.
31-35, M