(picture I wrote to)
She had my heart on a string;
had me feeling like I was floating.
I wish I could let go, knowing..
missing her is so cliche.
If you'd say things would be better
I'll believe you, though I'll still leave.
The noose had been severed, but
Our loose ends were never tied.
Rather, she wrapped them further
around her gentle finger;
pulling the tension in the air
even tighter.
Bury me in a quiet back alley.
Hang your pictures on the walls
around my heart. Stacking bricks
with each kiss, you've made
a home here. With fear, boasting
and loathing, I claimed your sketches
resembled the art we made.
The pain we created on canvas,
was not the mural we began with.
We danced in darkness,
lasting the evening; restless.
Undecisive, yet as it had
shadowed hope, passing so close,
I chose living only for seeing
death held in my hands, and
her silhouette in a silk dress.
She had a silver neckless,
that was thrown in a knot
around the ash covered clouds.
Binding light behind blinded eyes;
looking for storms more suitable
to the roaring thunder. A grey
sound heading for a white wedding.
It was bad weather we had. A black
sun. An empty emblem of when we
where drawn together. No colors,
with a dotted line on the horizon.
A love that once moved mountains,
now brought the sky
crashing
.
.
.
down
*this was for Rhetorical Insight, just trying to get some feedback.