My veins have cracked like fine china
on a cold stone floor
now, I write this, to whom I adore
I swim in a cesspool of love, alone
and these lovely, lovely waters do chill my milky bones
my bones all ripped are gently sewn
by the one I adore
There is a resting place, in the forest of dreams
whereby dreams are only choked by the rivers reeds
and after sewing bones, he is sewing seeds
the hands of he whom I adore
There is a pearlescent white sky, yet I lay on the floor
stabbed by the pins of the one I adore
my body will rot into the flowers that once grew
and they will bloom, and say
''I love no one
no one like you.''
Feb 16, 2014
Feb 16, 2014 at 9:31 PM UTC
My veins have cracked like fine china
on a cold stone floor
now, I write this, to whom I adore
I swim in a cesspool of love, alone
and these lovely, lovely waters do chill my milky bones
my bones all ripped are gently sewn
by the one I adore
There is a resting place, in the forest of dreams
whereby dreams are only choked by the rivers reeds
and after sewing bones, he is sewing seeds
the hands of he whom I adore
There is a pearlescent white sky, yet I lay on the floor
stabbed by the pins of the one I adore
my body will rot into the flowers that once grew
and they will bloom, and say
''I love no one
no one like you.''
© Erin Mason 2014
