Probably not as funny as I think I am
Insta @chloe_j_writes
you dance, you devour, you sustain life and take it, and yet do not live.
By Chloë J.3 years ago in Poets
I’ve always hated fireworks. They sound like gunshots that took you from me.
captivate my eyes, draw me in to destruction. seduce me to death.
shimmering starlight, passionate love, why, lovely things, must you bring pain?
night’s lone sentinel, light, defiant, imitates heavenly comrades.
dance of heat and hues consume the evidence, send pieces to the stars.
I no longer feel your fury. old burns, numb. hands and heart play with fire.
burn fast and burn out. leave behind passion’s rubble; ash, love’s memento.
kiss the witch’s skin, gentle in your misplaced ire. hasten to your work.
January is a month of grieving. all the things that were not, and all the things that were. artificial lights disappear and leave behind a grey-gilded world.
You spend too many hours before my frame, Cataloguing imperfections by name, Strands of gray, which, through the years, have grown bold-
“Fly me to the moon,” croons the singer, but who says I’ll have him? Or anyone? You’ll find no refuge here, amongst my barren craters.
