literature

sunken symphonies

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brokenfragilethings's avatar
Published:
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Literature Text

More remorse has been spoken
over graves
than in confessionals.

So I bled you a song while
you kissed my trembling fingers
and I knew that this foreshadowed
a cloudburst.

Rainwater dripped from your cheeks
as you melted into the sky;
you took the blues in your orbs with you
and I was left with nothing
but rhythm.

We stood in the storm and
you told me that you were too scared
to close your eyes--
so I did it for you.
            (I know it hurts to let go.)

The sky died today
or maybe it was tomorrow.
I can't seem to remember, anymore.
Play him a song that
reminds him of a time
when he wasn't tumbling down, down,
tumbling down.

--

I'm still editing this.
//OPEN TO SUGGESTIONS? C:
Edit: I took out the numerals. Thanks to ~DarkLondonDreams and ~Aiciluam for the suggestions--I quite like it better without them, honestly.
© 2013 - 2024 brokenfragilethings
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