06-03-2013, 01:04 AM
05-30-2013, 08:11 AM (This post was last modified: Yesterday 07:13 AM by UnicornRainbowCake.) Post: #1
UnicornRainbowCake
Senior Member
Posts: 133
Joined: Mar 2013
Balances
Balances
Our nights together have metamorphosed
into slanging matches, howling
over the sound of Coronation Street.
We are like children plucking the wings
of grotesque flies, curious yet cautious
with remarks that dig and tear,
like vicious moths on soft silk.
We are at the edge, balancing between
anger, and sadness, and regret.
Pulling -
at my manicured nails, at the edge of your shirt.
At my dreams, and then yours
almost incessantly.
Taking turns to see - who can hit the hardest?
With sharp, frozen arrows that never quite strike
the head - just the heart;
leaving each jagged wound to bleed out,
joining an exhibition of blemished battle wounds.
Yet when night falls -
when twilight's elegant palms brush over our souls,
we succumb to fatigue, and give up our game.
Love desperately seizes us in these rare few hours,
knowing we wake back with anger's flame.
These things are hard to hear...Why do we continue to pursue these emotional frenzies when all along we recognize that yes, it is in reality a "game" we are playing? I suppose we all have our reasons. All the same I Loved it and all the energy that went into and flows out of it in a torrent of emotion, then a coming together, only to start anew at waking. Great job in my very humble opinion. Thank you Amy...
Sorry I didn't intend to post my reply twice. I was only attempting a minor edit. Peace, Russ
UnicornRainbowCake
Senior Member
Posts: 133
Joined: Mar 2013
Balances
Balances
Our nights together have metamorphosed
into slanging matches, howling
over the sound of Coronation Street.
We are like children plucking the wings
of grotesque flies, curious yet cautious
with remarks that dig and tear,
like vicious moths on soft silk.
We are at the edge, balancing between
anger, and sadness, and regret.
Pulling -
at my manicured nails, at the edge of your shirt.
At my dreams, and then yours
almost incessantly.
Taking turns to see - who can hit the hardest?
With sharp, frozen arrows that never quite strike
the head - just the heart;
leaving each jagged wound to bleed out,
joining an exhibition of blemished battle wounds.
Yet when night falls -
when twilight's elegant palms brush over our souls,
we succumb to fatigue, and give up our game.
Love desperately seizes us in these rare few hours,
knowing we wake back with anger's flame.
These things are hard to hear...Why do we continue to pursue these emotional frenzies when all along we recognize that yes, it is in reality a "game" we are playing? I suppose we all have our reasons. All the same I Loved it and all the energy that went into and flows out of it in a torrent of emotion, then a coming together, only to start anew at waking. Great job in my very humble opinion. Thank you Amy...
(06-03-2013, 01:04 AM)Jacklalanne Wrote: 05-30-2013, 08:11 AM (This post was last modified: Yesterday 07:13 AM by UnicornRainbowCake.) Post: #1
UnicornRainbowCake
Senior Member
Posts: 133
Joined: Mar 2013
Balances
Balances
Our nights together have metamorphosed
into slanging matches, howling
over the sound of Coronation Street.
We are like children plucking the wings
of grotesque flies, curious yet cautious
with remarks that dig and tear,
like vicious moths on soft silk.
We are at the edge, balancing between
anger, and sadness, and regret.
Pulling -
at my manicured nails, at the edge of your shirt.
At my dreams, and then yours
almost incessantly.
Taking turns to see - who can hit the hardest?
With sharp, frozen arrows that never quite strike
the head - just the heart;
leaving each jagged wound to bleed out,
joining an exhibition of blemished battle wounds.
Yet when night falls -
when twilight's elegant palms brush over our souls,
we succumb to fatigue, and give up our game.
Love desperately seizes us in these rare few hours,
knowing we wake back with anger's flame.
These things are hard to hear...Why do we continue to pursue these emotional frenzies when all along we recognize that yes, it is in reality a "game" we are playing? I suppose we all have our reasons. All the same I Loved it and all the energy that went into and flows out of it in a torrent of emotion, then a passionate coming together, only to start anew at waking. Great job in my very humble opinion. Thank you Amy...
Sorry I didn't intend to post my reply twice. I was only attempting a minor edit. Peace, Russ