eros the bittersweet

suicide

of tendencies
and inclinations
the tormented poet
uses her wounds
once again
and writhes in
the blood raining
from her futile
suicide
aching in the
chaos of her
silence
the body
that reveals itself
in winter
a symphony of
the unspoken,
an attempt,
an unforgivable
and mute desire
to forget.

0 comments:

 

anais nin

and the day came when the risk to remain tight in the bud was more painful than the risk it took to blossom.

t.s. eliot

i should have been a pair of ragged claws.

frida kahlo

i hope the exit is joyful and i hope never to return.