You left.
It seems like seconds ago,
Tomorrow the sun will rise.
And my smile will rip in half,
Thought I wasn't desperate enough.
Yet, here I am.
Despising everything that doesn't bring back our memoirs.
Was it really that long?
When I met you?
Well, forgive my manners.
As they are reminiscent of a lost treasure.
Where are you, love?
Yes, I declare!
I love you.
What is love, though?
I thought it to be a well welcomed tickle for my soul,
No.
Used to lick the chance of becoming attached,
Now, I desperately need your gruesome aid.
Wine's blood, will spill.
An alcoholic, I might be.
And screams will forgive.
But, you don't know any of this.
I reckon to admire your fraudulent attempt to bring joy back.
You don't,
And then a decadent instant becomes an omnipotent force.
I inhale your vice,
Like a cigarette,
It tastes better at night,
While I swim inside the pulpy sea of your mad jungle,
I'm dying,
And I like it.
If I can't have my garnishing dreams back,
Then let me go.
Oh! but you already did so.
Torture for my soul.
It's all good, hun.
I might be tempted to fall inside the hole of one of your pores,
But this time,
I'll contradict myself,
And say "'no.''
About the Creator
Val Mijares
Telling stories since I have use of knowledge.
Comments
There are no comments for this story
Be the first to respond and start the conversation.