Feebly, mismatched passion.

A spur soaked in bold navy ink meets my hand and rests calmly over the stained white sheet in the centre of my low ragged table. I write a to note to the world about a tale that in itself describes my ways, my heart, and her rage. It’s important to remember that regardless of what we say or do, life itself is always going to be a Harley chase with jake experience. I try my best to approach her with such caution and she knows Id be okay with moping the concrete dust Filled floor with the centre of my tongue just for her to rest her soft feet. Effortlessly time and again, I fall under her seduction, her compulsion, the mere shreds of her essence. Her elegance spikes out like the misty forms of day, but day struck with the misfits of the demise. She takes hold of my dignity and sways it around like it’s nothing to lose. It’s a random evening and the air is as cold as her ways. My gusty fingers feel for warmth over the half tainted candle, but life disgraces me with trillions of chills. 

She knows of my weaknesses, my pleasures described by the ways of pain. I need her, her skin stained with the fragrance of a ghost of a good mood. She loves me, that she makes sure I know, her emotions braced like the dock masters sky but I love her maybe much more than she does, thats the problem, so her love equates to nil. So we start all over again with the story about the lonely gleeman that chases the wind. It’s trails make cold bold prints across my palms, giving me a wild guess of how her touch will feel like.
She strolls across this sea of madness and tears down my every thought and glance of hope with screeches of pains and memories of endless pain. My heart right now, my heart back then, I can’t tell a difference, cause now destroys then, now is a seed rooted so deeply that cracks the foundation of my love for her, like salmon swimming up stream, her loath fruits, destroying more than is created. *sigh! I shouldn’t do this, I shouldn’t let my heart open this wide to the eyes of this cold world.
This is me right now! Ummm she knows me. She knows this. She knows this heart is merely a day away from shutters. But I love her, because when you love, it’s important to be patient.


2 thoughts on “Feebly, mismatched passion.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s