I am made
of the poetry
my fingertips
bleed.
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Tag Archives: imagery
–
Just when I’m learning
how to climb out of the abyss
I threw myself down all that
time ago,
he threw down a rope ladder.
The edges were frayed,
the fabric worn,
unsteady. Unreliable.
16 steps up and
he
let
go.
‘Red is the Colour of Love,’ They Say.
“Red is the colour of love,”
they say
what a
fucking joke.
It’s the colour
of my blood
that bleeds out of my veins
and is absorbed
into the ground
beneath
every
footstep
I take
From Jodi Picoult to You
She puts her hands on either side of my face, and the room falls away. I have never gotten so lost in a kiss before. And then, the space between us explodes. My heart keeps missing beats and my hands cannot being her close enough to me. I taste her and realize I have been starving. I have loved before, but it didn’t feel like this. I have kissed before, but it didn’t burn me alive. Maybe it lasts a minute, and maybe it’s an hour. All I know is that kiss, and how soft her skin is when it brushes against mine, and that even if I did not know it until now, I have been waiting for this person forever.
