he holds my face
between his fingers
and my heart
under his eyelids.
he never bid
but i sold my soul
for a mark of Cain
and a kiss.
he turned my eyes
the color of blood
and my veins pulsed
with hunger
the kind that never goes away.
he never looked
but i wanted him to
see me in the sky
full of silver.
i died in his arms
because he killed me
like warriors do
and i merely swallowed.
i bowed my head
and left my swords
to be ruled
by an anarchy.
but he holds me
and that is enough.
About the Creator
Sara
Don’t look for love.
Be love.
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Compelling and original writing
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There is a Thin Line Between Tears of Sorrow and Tears of Joy
I remember when my mother passed away. After the tears from the initial shock, our family sat in the living room and shared memories. We talked about her love and compassion toward others, the lessons she taught us about honesty, and how she taught us the importance of respecting ourselves and others. Then we started sharing memories that made us smile and eventually, each of us began to relax and tell stories that made us laugh.
By Brenda Mahler5 days ago in Humor
Comments (2)
Majestic poem, well done!
That was beautiful and sad at the same time...