Beloved
kissing the world my last goodbye
Where is your voice?
Even if I call out to you in a sleepless daze, even this brainchild can flourish in existence. My beloved absurdity. Lifted to a higher ground, I raise to you. The pains I've felt before you echo a second empty eternity, even in your blood, I can take mine with a smile. Graced tears within this beauty you show, touched by a whisper.
Come back to me.
My body closes down in cold rejection of your missing presence; I feel the death chill forgetting hope. The unfortunate angel of my dreams, my fabricated love... yes I do... to love a dream so much.. I broke a second heart in loving embrace, and have yet to feel it slip out of my arms, with a heart still in my smile.
Return to me.
Even in a fleeting dream, the ne who left before me. I regret running from your chasing light. Your beautiful mind, who holds everything of me close, have perfection last in a moment of longing for that angel. My fears left me in barriers, my want left me in chains, and all there was, was you.
My dreams continues to spin.
You will always be there, and I choose to be blinded by your ever perfect light. If I go deaf to your voice, I can rest in the echo of eternity forever. If I never wake from this, I kiss the world my last good bye.
About the Creator
Kayla McIntosh
This is just my personal journal. I needed somewhere to write my thoughts, and I thought here was pretty good.
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Red Shelves
Death is a black hole. Think about it. A black hole is the corpse of a star, something once warm and bright, now come to the end of its life cycle. But some will argue that the cycle of life does not end with death. That death is merely another path we must walk once our bodies expire and our souls ascend. In that moment, when the fuel in the star’s chemical tank hits empty and the shiny matte coat explodes into supernova, the mass left behind – the corpse – becomes a black hole. We understand that, around such a vast cadaver, dimensions work a little differently in death to the way we’re used to in life. For example, light cannot escape the pull of a black hole when it hits the point of no return. That’s where it gets its colour. Space itself is contorted by a black hole. That’s where it gets its funny shape. Even time. Time slows right down the closer you get to it. The closer you get to a black hole. The closer you get to death.
By Matthew Curtis2 days ago in Humans
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