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A collection of poetry that has recieved four stars or more at writing.com |
The night's air hits me as I fall through the cracks of deception watching the blades of grass sway in the hills a certain voice chills me I can't touch you her eyes glossed over with stale tears that for years I've failed to notice and her focus is lost in the red of her whites at night she dream dreams of pleasure crimson satin sheets and crushed petals perfumed walls and the dimmed light of candles all that I used to do but I can't touch you right now I can't touch you because these hands broken, ashed, and calused by time found time to explore a mind which brought much more than lust and in these hands such a rough touch can bring mistrust a disregard for feelings and a reckoning that would shake the very fabric of time trapped in the finest feathers of cupid's wings touch me, she says I can't remind me why I'm still here remind me why I'm still here remind me why I can't touch you and as those stale tears become new and fall down her face like four hundred years of stress I longed to touch her to keep her days sunny and skies blue to help her see the future in love and not to let go of her goodwill but even still the pain in which my fingers hold is enough to destroy her soul and I just couldn't bring myself remind me why I'm still here remind me why she walked away disappearing in the shadows of dolorous thought and I stood there in the vast spell of lonliness longing to find a way to wash the dirt from my hands and to remind myself why To understand my words, you must first understand my mind. Balik737 |