Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
Most beautiful fragment, You're a frayed photograph, Your focal point blurred, with the tears you have, swallowed. Don't tuck your fingers, beneath your sleeves. Darling I have seen the, severed butterflies. Which bit into your wrists. Sweatheart, don't ever, let my eyes wander, over -new found- gashes of vapid metal. My sinking love, with -emaciated- scars. Running down your -pronounced- ribs. With every ounce you tear from your thighs, I sigh in depleted joy. And weep to the children of the sleepless. To those who ****** their bloodied knuckles- scraped against a charred throat. Hold fast to- these horrid delusions. To which you have conceived. Close your sleepy eyes, wake for tomorrow's morn.
0
Dec 26, 2013
Dec 26, 2013 at 2:00 PM UTC
Hold Fast
Most beautiful fragment, You're a frayed photograph, Your focal point blurred, with the tears you have, swallowed. Don't tuck your fingers, beneath your sleeves. Darling I have seen the, severed butterflies. Which bit into your wrists. Sweatheart, don't ever, let my eyes wander, over -new found- gashes of vapid metal. My sinking love, with -emaciated- scars. Running down your -pronounced- ribs. With every ounce you tear from your thighs, I sigh in depleted joy. And weep to the children of the sleepless. To those who ****** their bloodied knuckles- scraped against a charred throat. Hold fast to- these horrid delusions. To which you have conceived. Close your sleepy eyes, wake for tomorrow's morn.
olivia-conlon
Written by
Dec 26, 2013
Dec 26, 2013 at 2:00 PM UTC
Request permission to use this poem