Fathomless is the mind full of stories.
Remember me when the sky's are dark And hope has turned its back to you Know then, all that I offered No toll or price to pay
By Obsidian Wordsabout a year ago in Poets
Perhaps it was foolish to gift you The parts of me I treasured most They are tainted now with rust A machine that faltered
Love was once all, you were for life, mine Love was once all you were, for life. Love was once all you were for. Love was once all you.
There are echoes of memories, Where nightmares are grown Like an imprint of fear Infused into bone Teeth made of charcoal,
By Obsidian Words2 years ago in Poets
I want to bury myself in you Hollow ribcage casket Fresh tilled Earth from torn flesh Planting the seed of my soul
“I don't understand, I love you. And you love me, right?” “Of course, but…” “Then why? What else matters?” “Everything! Everything matters.”
So…sure is wet out. Don't do that Don't do what? Talk about the weather? Don't pretend like either of us cares about mundane shit.
I understand fire, it’s hungry, Starving with unchecked violence—insatiable. In proximity to fuel it Ravishes. Undeterred by decorum,
Tell me something about you. Something about me? Yeah, something no one else knows. Like what? I dunno—something you've never said out loud.
“What do you search for?” “Peace. You?” “Vengeance.” “You can find one in the other.” “You will find both in each other.”
I think that I like the cold because it makes me feel awake. It reminds me that I am alive as it bites me, Burns my lungs and turns my skin to stone.
For context, this was a message sent to me by my partner early in the morning, predominently in jest. I am trying to prove that he can no longer claim to have no talent in writing. Please share your thoughts in the comments.
By Obsidian Words2 years ago in Fiction
