screams

Fragrant Rose

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The Beauty Of The Essence
Is A Delightful Sight
The Fragrance Of The Scent
Its The Aroma Of The Rose

 

Behind My Hands Is A Scented Red Rose
I Step Forward With A Particular Approach
Perhaps I'll Compliment Your Beautiful Hair
For I See Elegance In Your Black Hair

 

I Want You To Feel Relaxed
The Pleasant Clench Of My Hand
Holding Hands With You
The Affectionate Felt Of Ease

 

I Enjoy Seeing You Smile
It Makes Me Feel Appreciated
To Relish My Charm Of Expression

Our Love Is Dying

You’re miles away from here
Unable to see me shed a tear
Facing this cold night alone
Hoping you’ll answer your phone

Where is the man I adore?
Who makes my heart soar
He’s disappeared from home
And left me in the dark to roam

You say that you’re the same
But he didn’t care about fame
Love was something cherished
Not something we let perish

You wear your uniform well
While I’m left alone to dwell
On the days of our past
When everything moved fast

We would slow dance in the night
But now we just scream and fight
You would whisper poem in my ear
Now it’s your voice that I rarely hear

But don’t worry Lovely, I’ll hang on
With only memories to think upon
I’ll be brave and stay by your side
And in my writing I’ll confide…

…That our love is slowly dying

Author's Notes/Comments: 

This is a small thought progression poem that I had while trying to talk to my boyfriend who is currently serving in the marines.

Suicide.

Blood heats, then begins to boil.
Electric flows with the clock's ever toil.
Chocking back screams,
Liquid pouring at the seams.
Lying in crimson this time,
And still see the shine.
Wrists are bloody and gory,
The dripping itself telling a story.
Bubbles of red dot the lips,
Not matching the blue of the fingertips.
A smile curved at the mouth,
The twisted visage oh-so foul.
Never looked so at peace before,
So the knife twists for even more.
The grating of the knife against bone,
Didn't even seem to be known.
Every second collecting dust,
Doesn't seem to diminish death's lust.
Then flesh begins to burn,
Insides slowly rot and turn.
You've set me up to fail this time,
And now, death's embrace is mine.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

No, I'm not suicidal.

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