If love could bleed a different color, I wouldn't let her bleed at all

The first time our eyes twined across the distance

separating the heart in her from the hole in mine,

I saw not a face, but a shadow looming in the streets of an apocalyptic scene.

Her lips were pressed in a straight line as if she were keeping the 

breath inside her mouth a secret.

She was no moon, no star, none of the celestial sphere's burning body of light.

She was the entire night sky.

I was afraid of the dark but

I took a step forward.

The first time she slept in my bed,

she buried herself so deep within the sheets that I could almost hear

the thin covers of fabric tearing through each gasp of breath

clawing out of the tunnel collapsing inside her lungs.

So I grazed my lips on the hollow spot in her throat

to remind her that if she ever forgot how to breathe,

she can always come to me for air.

The first time I saw the bloody lines of red

staining the inside of her wrist,

she said the knife in her pocket weighed heavy like

the rain of a burdened cloud

in a blanket of sky that had fallen far too many times.

But I told her if there was one thing that she was,

it's a dandelion.

Because if a flower can recreate itself,

so can she. 

Reviews

[yuki]

wow a really good poem I can tell theres alot of feelings going threw this very nice

[Jennie Baron]

Yes, quite passionate and vividly descriptive and so beautifully worded. It's thought provoking and I'm still pondering how to interpret it.

[Kasey Miriam]

this is a beautiful poem full of passion and love with a wonderful flow fantastic job

[Van Keyl]

Thank you so much! It means a lot.

[Kasey Miriam]

you are very welcome