Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Jay Nov 2014
That savory flavor that lingers between my soaking wet fingers
Daylight 4U2C Jan 2014
A wicked woman told my love, "**** him and you will be free."
My love paused, and the wicked woman's old twig of a finger pointed off to me.
Love walked to me with tearful eyes, as if she had no choice.
I smiled wryly and told her in the softness of my voice, "Let it be done, and be free.
No sword is long enough to show my love for thee. No dagger, short enough to match my heart's beat.
So please my love, take your choice of my death. Choose what would be fit."
She didn't hesitate, just cry. She, slowly lifting a mirror from the dust.
I don't know why I felt I must, but I wiped the tears away just to savor her touch.
I looked into her sad blue eyes, just for one more glance. Then I shut my own.
I could feel her lift the mirror, this was her chance, let it be known.
A crashing blankness came down on me, soon after the last things I heard.
"I'm moving up, and you're moving down." These were her last words.
I didn't understand them then, but now I think I know.
She will one day be in the warm light, while I'm still stuck in the cold indigo.
I'd always run up the down escalator, like a crazy kid.
She always said, one day I'd trip.
And now I finally did.
Daylight 4U2C Mar 2014
She could die any day.
Just tip-toe away.
                                                                But what would they say?
They still say she's okay.
                                                                      ...They don't say "please stay."
They cry when good men die.
They cry when they are scared.
They cry all the time.
They cry here.
They cry there.
So why?
                                                                                             Why?
Why for her,                                                               they don't cry?

Here she will fly                                                     between fire and sky,
                                                                                         in an ocean
her only air being devotion.
Life&Death; her only notion.
                                                                        Is it bad to wish for a potion?
A spell to make this spell go?
She may try so-,
                                                                                  but I just don't know.
Why?
                                                                                              Why?
                                                                                  Why can't they see?

The lost,
the falling,
she's calling
she gives them a sign,
she loses grasp of her life's line.
Why?
                                                                                              Why?
                                                                                  Why don't they cry?

Cry for her.
Care for her!
See her here!
                                                                                         Please..
                                                                                                   one tear.
Suppress her deepest fear.
Her pain is not mere.
She WILL fall,
if there is no bridge,
between the buildings in her mind.
She WILL tumble,
down,
if no one holds her hand,
and she get's left behind.
Save her.
Savor her.
For like this she will not last.
Deprived of what she needs,
internally she bleeds.
                                                                                             Cry
for just one day.
Prove to her,
she will be okay.
Teach her,
how to no be alone.
Love her,
don't leave her on her own.
                                                                                             Cry
Don't lie to her.
Don't act so refined.
She knows those lies,
she isn't blind.
And for once,
just for once,
when her thoughts have intertwined,
I beg of you,
I plead of you,
no one leave her behind.
comments? Hearts?

— The End —