Stockholm syndrome

I trace my lips unbidden,

Savoring the unintentional wisdom

That your breath kept hidden…

And so the heart began its fission.

 

Quite fond of walking among these anaglyphs

But still… to sculpt you’d have to cut through…

So I settled on watching from the high cliffs

The requiem on water, that smoothly overgrew

                                 the shores.

 

Yet it’s still playing the sweet plea.

This illusion of love has captured so many…

But so very few want to break free

Don’t I know that better than any?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Author's Note

Reviews

[Chris]

Haunting in its simplicity and mood

[Ana B.]

Thank you Chris :)