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Swept by swift luring eyes,
swelled my chest by inviting rhymes;
I still can see,
those razor beams so clear,
it's feasible grasping memories,
than shattering them against walls to disappear;
What's a wound with no reason to bleed?
count how many ways you tore apart the essence of me,
but, still I stand on two rubbery feet,
within the ruins & debris;
too much for inexperienced youth,
inside vines... you only harshly grew,
stuck in midst of a darkened room,
nothing here except me & a dim lit candle in view.
YOU ARE READING
Between Actuality & a Psychotic Embrace
PoetryA collection of my own combined styles of - Macro Poetry & QuoteArt, which = MacQuote Poetry. I will try my best to have new additions every week from my on-going-twisted-love-affair of writing poetry. For all the support and encouragements you al...
