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Feb 2019 · 1.3k
Short of Titles
Bohemian Feb 2019
If a needle was to be put in my capillaries to forget you
I'd been a walking void.
If each time I thought about you could grow my hair by an inch,
I'd been the Tangle you read about.
If changing wrappers of my skin had not worked,
Could change my skin and bones.
If you were on the moon
I could study turning all upside down to be an astronaut.
Had my heart not recited your name,
My sleeves hadn't been upto this stretch.
If I could have a job of making you happy,
You would been immortal by now
If I were the Leonardo,
I had painted you smiling
Till eternity.
That went unseen ,yet prepared for your birthday ;just as silly as it sounds.
Feb 2019 · 655
Pride and wounds
Bohemian Feb 2019
Those chests inflated of pride
Sheer a bit more
A bit more as they conceive a wound more
to have another one
To the ranger within,just as an evil within
To each of us
Feb 2019 · 1.0k
Cloister Roamers
Bohemian Feb 2019
'When nights shall be drunk
And souls be tumbling in revelry
When the comic of roles end
And cold shall be burning
I await to call the utmost illegitimate side of us
As my penchanted pleasure
For you be semisane
Caught half into adulthood and rest you know...
Neither you nor me or they
Be sceptical or carrying the peels of scruples
Don't.
Bohemian Feb 2019
Joy alike to mine residest in the wet smile of that granddad with
whose son every stranger wishest to play with and giggle with
Joy alike to mine residest in the eyes of that goon whom approached thee
with a wish of disappearing his misery
Joy alike to mine residest in those
those sculptures who were freed after the perennial to get broken
Joy alike to mine residest in those drizzles departest who from the cloud,their master for good
A joy,brought to me by thee,unrelatable and unreasonable,
when showest understanding and trust,
there assures though no tyrst,
something that blooms out of broken pieces,
drenched in love
ever and ever
Above all constancies,there's one common and constant to all that which gives happiness,
name it.
Feb 2019 · 213
Five year realms
Bohemian Feb 2019
Sometimes,she be the cruelest of the cruels,
such be the meadows of her moods by and by the seasons .
When by rain,she's the cornucopia of aromatic love ,the dew touches the hearts .
She forgets but I blame not since she forgets to forgive .
A widow, forever in white who married not ever even
Decades later she goes such
Similar and similar
Feb 2019 · 3.0k
Unsafe
Bohemian Feb 2019
If my love is to be perverted
I would rather ****** you utmost to the brim
To seek your naked emotions .
Inducing the tears
You held back for long .
Seldom is how you feel
Salvation be my love/ salvation goes unsure
You lend me it once .

— The End —