Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Sep 2015
It's getting hard to be romantic,
Without making people sick or being stuck on repeat;
If it's okay with you, babe, I'll chance it,
And smile as people faint at the sight of yesterday's feast.

A stranger's gaze in the mirror,
The message I give can't be clearer;
Baby, don't you know my life is a mess?
From shadows scream silent voices;
Now I'm afraid I've ran out of choices,
Waiting for the day I'm tossed into darkness.

Sentenced to a life of solitude,
All because I spend my years revolving 'round you;
Although, sentenced is the wrong word to use,
'Cause, baby, for you, it's one of many things I'd happily do.

Am I getting closer yet?
People talk sense, but I can't hear it,
As love has convicted me of heresy.
I'll dig away at the soil myself;
This is far from a cry for help.
If being lost in you is criminal, I am guilty.

Smoke engulfs me as I meditate,
Blessing this beautiful occupation;
Fire envelopes my once-stable frame,
And you're what sparked my immolation.

I still taste the scent of you;
The air I breathe you have polluted;
Your flavour runs the length of my tongue.
My nerves wreak havoc with my guts,
And darlin', I can't get enough,
Even though it's doin' me wrong.
I consider this my masterpiece. The penultimate piece of the Mouthpiece album.
Mouthpiece
Written by
Mouthpiece  26/M/Liverpool, UK
(26/M/Liverpool, UK)   
Please log in to view and add comments on poems