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Mar 2019
There will be tears, he sang

Water disguised blood
flooding at the brim of an eye
Gathering pain and hurt
Inconsistent feelings of nothing-happy

Rivers, streams, lakes,
Waterfalls gushing down
Racing drops dripping down heated cheeks
Then broken with shallow coldness
Aches reaching in between cracked skin

Dead rose petals
Falling away from thorn burst stems
Crisp at the tips,
Light in weight until gathered heavily
at the palm of a weak hand
Stained with the mark of blood lines at a wrist
Deranged and shaking while hopelessly gazing
at the happiness laid in a deathbed before you

Sinking teardrops moistening jean pockets
Drip, drip
Another drop
Falling off a water bruised face
Written by
PoeticPresident  16/F
(16/F)   
214
 
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