There is a lullaby in every bruise you give,
the drugs cannot kill me as you’re there first,
we can play games until the sun rises,
discreetly sweeping my flaws off the doorstep.
You frusted my subconscious, forcing yourself-
into my mind and you soon became a luxury,
my soul cannot afford to lose or adore you,
unpredictable love, my impervious love.
She, a tender tornado with love in her fury,
a vivid color I fail to paint and blend,
Laying here all evening and pray for early suns,
and call any ears to hold me from self destruct.
My poems bring no materials or tools for growth,
as useless as the things I was once proud to own,
placed with friends I borrow from better evenings,
among the pillows and street lights I vision a home.
Faith reaches far but your arm overlaps-
the gaps that my soul has left awoken,
reality once more takes a stab in the dark,
this mind leaks with thoughts unspoken.
When your chest rises less frequently,
I will hope you were happy with your life my love,
even though the pleasure would be all mine,
when our eyes meet in eternity,
I look forward to you scolding me-
for failing to be on time.