Aromatic Bliss~

mysterious milk thistle flowering 

blankets this unknown hillside

like a sea of freckled faced children

falling to sleep quietly surrendering

to the evenings lullaby

purplish blooms atop a collar of thorns

bleeding fragrantly once touched

silky fluid rolls down into coupled palms

and softly nourishes the days weathering

forever drawn to this aromatic bliss

I run through this field of milky ways

with my arms stretched and feel numb

to the wrist cutting thistle blurring past..

Reviews

[Thaddius]

this is so underrated. I didn't realize to give ratings until now.

[Thaddius]

A sublime but fatal emotion, a new love. Everything that smells sweet cuts deep, every board to rest your head doubles as a guillotine. That duality is really masterfully expressed in your language, there's this sensory infatuation with what hurts you, and with the leaking flesh itself. This pain feeds the nature that causes it, the hillside that harbors you - a grand idea.

'Milky ways' - jealous of this one. The 'numb' feeling 'to the wrist cutting thistle blurring past'. The sentiment lives in the letters as well as the words. There's ecstasy before the pain can process. Bravo

[Corset]

my own poem comes to mind, but mainly for this one, as well as my own, we are drawn to people in pain, the need to nurture, the call of the injured, it says that although their pain is known by us and beautiful our hands become bloody from trying to aid what is instinctively created to be that way...but try we do, try we must because we were created that way as well. It is easy to love those who love us, it is easy to close a blind eye to duplicity when a debt is owed, and you recognize that madness, but you pretend that you dont because they need it somehow, need to be that way. Somewhere under those thorns beats a human heart that wants to be accepted for who they are or were made to be, if they try to trick us and if they try to pretend, we can get angry and stomp off or we can close our eyes and remember there are people who have turned their backs and walked away, numb, in our own lives. There is not a single person on this planet that doesn't want to be honestly loved, they are lying to them selves and to others if they say otherwise, even the serial killer seeks an honest connection, kills it yes, but still seeks it.

[Rossen]

What thoughts come to you?