Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
Christine Feb 2018
To you, death

to you I wrote a letter only a lifetime ago
signed as nobody,on the day of never.
In a limbo where I had but a paper and time
to free me from writings of your feather.
An eternity only I begged to stay longer
this contract I've signed I give back.
Enough, you said? No, it wasn't
I thought as you painted me black.



To you, death

you who turned my hourglass upside down
and left her alone to sail the storms of sand.
Saharas in eyes, tears come from another
hides them from world with her hand.
Howls I heard from afterlife, clear and loud
as waves of screams you covered me with.
Drowning me coldly you pulled me under
your heartlessness more than a myth.


To you, death

who closed your eyes at the sight of an ending
seeing such love was a first.
For even you could not reap all we have planted
in the grand Eden on Earth.
Like a snake's venom you infected our heaven
spreading but loss and sorrow.
A disease of the heart, your favourite bred crumb
so you know your way back for tomorrow.

to you, death

who shall receive another letter
signed as a nobody on the days of forever.
In lifetime of being the wind in her hair
she won't feel it again, never.
To touch her face one more time in raindrops
is how I understand bliss.
To shine in her smile as the warmth of the Sun
bathing in ocean's abyss.
To guide her gentle steps in the ground she walks on,
to keep her warm with a flame.
To kiss her lips in the river water
I only can, because I lived again.

To You, Death.

Do not be afraid to take my hand this time,
we've met before but now you're young.
Please, as you're taking me, don't close your eyes
now I walk with you wiser of tongue.
Do not be afraid to guide me tonight
and please have no regrets.
Know that I will gladly meet you
on the side I will pay my debts.
Let's us meet again in peace
now that my chess game is done.
As someone who has become time
and knows you like a son.

Do not be afraid to come for me death,
I promise to go right away.
Do not be afraid to come for me friend,
you can hold my hand if you're scared.
Christine Feb 2018
Bottom of spiral
Shine like a marble
Amethyst, silver, and gold.

Grave of the mind
Soothing and kind
Pulling you down to its core.

Sinking in silence
Away from all violence
Gladly you leave with a bell.

Whenever the morning
For you there's no warning
Eternity holding your hand.
Christine Jan 2017
emerging from death
patiently waiting
covered with dust
it blossomed
spreading its roots deep
in the ground
moving slowly
between the bones
of old love and new
making its way
trough every heartbreak
new trust has awakened
waiting for me to water it
i'm letting it grow
risking all
hoping for thorns
but this time
only this time
i'm receiving only roses
Christine Dec 2016
tired tired tired
dreaming awake in tears
reality is away
unknown
sharp
cold
alone

tired tired tired
how can I live like this
my head is a liar
never ever sleeps
and neither do I
how could I
scared
I may never wake up
the liar will take me
and wake up in my place

how will I ever
sleep again
why would I when
this mind of mine
created a world
of numbers
of patterns
of habits
of pain of loneliness of fear of despair

how can I fight
why would I
get angry
when the lies
took my strength away
slow
lazy
I count

one two three
the windows
one two three
the door
one two three
the sheets

one two three
but how can I check if I'm real
Christine Nov 2016
what happened
to our young innocent love
used to light up the sky
colored it red then white.
what happened
to our young innocent love
now it burns the ground I walk on
turns clouds into black giants
colors rain gray
touches my cheek
leaves ****** tears
hate in my heart
and truth in my eyes.
finally I know
we burned too bright,
turned into ashes.
I will rise from it
***** but clean
forget my scars
forget the hate
forget the love
for it is not my own anymore
and I am not myself
Christine Nov 2016
What a good day it is
to talk to drops of rain.
What a good day it is
to escape your brain.
What a good day it is
to scare and be scared.
What a good day it is
to be killed and live.
Christine Oct 2016
The pain.
Bones cracking,
Skin tearing,
Blood pouring.

The screams.
Of an angel,
Of a demon,
My own.

The monster.
I used to be,
I was meant to become,
I created.

To resist
Or to accept,
The wings
I cannot see?

To trust myself,
To hope for white feathers,
To grow out
Dark roots of my own?

Never to see them,
Never to touch,
But spread them wide
And learn to fly.
Next page