i once had a cinnamon jar
but it didn't really hold cinnamon
it held something called feelings

these feelings were like
maybe scented roses
( i can't really remember)
that was something only you gave me

there was another thing
you gave me the day i
met you
(you called it love)

i had asked where is it
you pointed out in the distance
and said "look over there"
(i still did not see it)

i must have been blinded
or maybe your piercing silence
was what i need for you to tell me

you lead me out to look at the night sky
i told you it was lovely
(but you had hated it)
i did not understand

and i thought i would never.

you asked me
what colour the moon was
i said white
and you shook your head

and said;

my love, the moon
is my heart
and the sun is my
trapped soul

it took centuries
for me to understand
what you had said
(b.d.s.)

sharp needles
blood trickles
down my upper lip
i've begin to love you in a way
i never did before

red wine
shaky, distorted lines
of a human being
ever so slightly broken

me.

translucent skin
the bullets' sin
slight breathing pierces
your unfailing heart

warm touch
the pills drop
as the poison goes
quickly down my spine

(b.d.s.)

when the colours
seem to fade away
nothing feels
ever quite the same

my dear,
you seem to paint galaxies
in many ways
i never knew

you would open
up the night sky
and tell me everything in it
was all mine

you made sparks of white
to light up the whole sky
show the assorted amounts
of stars for me

you loved me like black
loves white,
infinite and never dying

(b.d.s.)

long ago,
I was once given
one of the finest pieces
of cloth

only that the cloth was very small
and I had no thread

later,
I was given some nice
golden thread
I had sewn a tiny heart
on the cloth

the next day,
a boy asked to see
my fine tapestry
i was full of smiles

until

I looked at it and saw
a set of terrible words
on the cloth

as i read it my eyes
burned

"jealousy is a nasty *****."

(b.d.s.)

if love is a concept
why is it that this
inexplicable feeling
seems all too real

love was our sin
that we kept
under our lips
when we had first met

love was my desire
a sudden ache
inside my head
(maybe my heart)

love was your language
it was second nature to you;
every syllable
came so easy

carefree.

i never quite understood why.

but i guess i never will

(b.d.s.)