here’s the damnedest thing about “hopeless romantics”:
they’ll splinter their own bones into kindling
to build the fire that warms you,
as if putting a match to their insides
might cauterize the wounds
left behind by the greedy lovers and too-rough hands
that set their hearts to bleeding in the first place
you see, the poets spared no pains when they dubbed
the especially romantic “the hopeless”
they are hopelessly betrothed to the warfare,
the burning insanity
of a soul madly in love with love—
the way the heart rages against the brain.
Oct 27, 2017
Oct 27, 2017 at 11:43 PM UTC
here’s the damnedest thing about “hopeless romantics”:
they’ll splinter their own bones into kindling
to build the fire that warms you,
as if putting a match to their insides
might cauterize the wounds
left behind by the greedy lovers and too-rough hands
that set their hearts to bleeding in the first place
you see, the poets spared no pains when they dubbed
the especially romantic “the hopeless”
they are hopelessly betrothed to the warfare,
the burning insanity
of a soul madly in love with love—
the way the heart rages against the brain.