Words of My Lover

Making love to her was like shattering false dreams with my fingertips
Like every moan released demons into the night
Ghosts that would float under sheets only till her arched back escaped them
And they would hide in the corners of cracked walls till daylight

My hand could only clasped on to her pieces

Never could I be the focus of her shadowed dreams

Showed me scarred remembrances on her skin

Blocked eyes showed there was no way for me to ever get in

 

But I tried

And realized

 

Making love to her was like chasing that first high
Never as good as the first, true time
Because every time after that lost its purpose
One knocked virtue out of her so that all that left of her were curses

She turns to women to turn them into new lovers
Searching for some sanity redemption
My whispered words traced curves that melted into my handprints
Trails of my lips tried to echo her mourning

 

Making love to her was like a race

Quickly trying give light to her face

Trying to erase all false prophesies before me

Begging her to escape her memories

Tempting her pasts to get washed with my tears
But every time was like the last
Her orgasms floated into the night
Only to be replaced screamed nightmares I couldn’t fight

 

We cried the last time making love
Knowing it was never love to begin with
Just lust turned into false hoped salvation
Nails dug into backs trying to morph this pain
Tainted blood swarmed the heart I beated for
Lived for
Till it became to much
And pieces of her still lay in my bed sheets

 

 

–R.