I pushed him down like gunpowder
inside of me, until the kiss
(that sparked a bit)
and then he was an explosion.
My heart went past skipping beats
and decided to almost stop entirely.
If that was what people call love,
it was burning me up,
and he was almost too hot to breathe.
Though fires can be warm and pretty
to sit in front of,
there’s a reason we put them out.
The roaring waves of heat swallowed me whole;
when the cool waters of distance
and rejection finally reached me,
I was almost turned to coals.
Thank goodness for small favors, like
indifference and long roads;
without them, I wouldn’t be
happy or cold.
I'm not sure I like this one, but I had the gunpowder bit lodged firmly in my brain & this was the only way to get it out.
I like writing poetry. Not all of it is going to be a historical epic or an ode to something. These are like little glimpses of the subway in my mind; my train of thought isn't always artsy or symbolic or deep or meaningful, but I like to think that art takes ordinary things and makes people see a sort of beauty in them. So, look around- I've been doing this for a while. Enjoy ♥
2 comments:
You've been hiding this site from me!
Why can't I see your profile?
Anywho, it wasn't technically hiding. It's on my profile & everything. But feel free to explore now that you've found it.
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