I saw my broken legs when the lights tried to shield your eyes but you flared up, unaware, that you'd let me mould your pulsing hand into a cane for a blind man; but you and I were not to be thus fated, trapped in an aging existence where spirited nudges cracked the other's ribs and bitter wounds oozed from sharp tips of stitching needles, too vain to remain for long within the sterile walls of a first aid kit; yet, too rusted to nurse a wound and be not enraged; so we puncture holes into each other's skins, tangled and unable to tell apart our battle scars from the froth brimming our mouths as open vials of poison ricochet and leave two dead, while enemy lands lie awake, stealing marches upon our grave.
Here's my anecdote. I had plans to write a suicide note and then jump off a bridge. But then I saw her on a boat. Her beauty inspired me to not die I sighed and looked at the sky. It seemed as if the clouds smiled at me. I felt relaxed and so free. She was ravishing And her effect on me was astonishing. Her eyes penetrate deep into the soul. Her smile carried the power to console. Finally I had someone to hold on to. In her presence my heartbeats rhyme. Just like winds swooning wind chime. The vibes in my heart converted into rhythmic stories and I was elated. Maybe this is how a poetry is created.
I’m not sure what happened, or where we went wrong Or why I hate hearing our favorite song And walks in the park, I remember them well But now they’re just memories, and that hurts like hell I thought that love would last for ever: I was wrong.