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Mine lips shy up when pleaded to speak,
eyes fill & buildup,
yet... never blowup,
such instinctive reserved pique,
a self reliable & preservative technique.
oh my dearest love line,
these sorid eyes can speak sorely cold,
mine soul shaded in variated dark cove grime;
yet, know as with pumping blood,
believe truth forth from mouth,
you are only one felt of home.
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...
