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QuietlyYou’ve died in the melancholy that arose on morose breath.In lieu of the ever desperate words that never grazed those sullen lips.Of yours.Quiet eyes, still steadfast. Dreaming.Wide awake, and you’ll utter words simply poetic.Talking to me,Quietly
BareKeep those bare hands, clean.Butchered love ache brutally,if not breathtakingly.Sickness intoxicates, and strays desperately.Into that which was agony on the intake.Close to me, breathe but keep those hands distant.Bare.