Razor blades and ButterfliesA Poem by ShaunA story type poem of love lost and moving on...
When did you become so absent and hollow?
What happened to that enduring flame? At what point did the candle burn completely down? When did your banner become white with defeat? Upon barbed wire crosses now hangs your misery. Your sparkle has turned to rust. Your afterglow of orgasmic tranquility Is now a shadow of guilt and lust. Across your skin is splayed a pattern, A tracing of events exposed. In the form of razor blades you made your statement Upon deaf ears, your prayers were told. So shattered is the depth of your subconscious. Your hopes and dreams have withered and died. Where once stood wholly, your radiance You now slouch pitiful and tired. But I remember, not so long ago, Butterfly kisses and sweet nothings. Where every morning was an adventure's beginning Every night elated with sweat covered bliss. When the heavens bowed at our forthcoming footsteps. When our hearts beat their pitter-patter When the fireflies would dance gracefully between us And no sunrise would cease to flatter But like a ship caught in a reef, we're going no where rather quickly The iceberg, Captain, is no longer straight ahead We're capsizing and swiftly sinking No longer raining, it's pouring now And the levee cannot hold A tidal wave of desperation and anguish Will soon inundate and drown our exposed Hearts, our hearts! They'll be torn from their fibers Surgically separated with fate's dull Scalpel Where once they beat in a unified symphony They are now scarred and flatlining in denial There will be no sunrise for the two of us The hangman has slung his tight noose There will be no remains here left to discover And no one will be looking to tell the truth. Through razor blades and butterflies I'm recollecting upon this account With nothing left to be elaborated upon I bid farewell to the good times past Moving on now, I sometimes remember Those patterns and eyelash grazes But leave them behind me, where they belong There's no room for sadness or pity. © 2014 ShaunAuthor's Note
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1 Review Added on April 4, 2014 Last Updated on April 4, 2014 AuthorShaunILAboutI'm 24. I've been writing for several years. My poetry is usually more dark. more..Writing
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