In All We Lost

Half of heaven is in my psyche, the other half is made of knives

Rain comes down like bleeding and drips a lullaby

As I rest I blink sweet nightmares; the memories of your face

In my dreams you’ve become more than the human race

But no matter the obsession the outcome is the same

I’ll be lonely going exactly the way I came

My train is going nowhere as long as you don’t ride

So I’ll go on the misfit searching for a guide

Reviews

[StrawberryDream]

I cannot believe I am the first review for this poem... It is the first one I have read of yours, and I think it is entirely eloquent, and beautiful! True wordcrafting magic! Can't wait to read more!