You stand there,
In between of the ocean.
Fighting your oblivion.
Eating the distressed words,
squeezing them hard.
How do you carry the weight of the screams?
Every minute.
Every hour.
Every day.
Lost.
I ask you to turn and look at me,
And pour those wild noises
through your fiery eye.
I place my lips to calm them down.
Your flesh starts to melt,
no, not the ashes,
but
the swollen words roll.
Fire in your body ceased to burn.
Magic of calm ocean takes over.
And,
my dearest love,
you are no more the burning sun.
But,
the calm moon,
With the mysterious blotches.
– Bleeding Pen
