Posted: March 17, 2014 in Melancholia


Air, i underestimate its worth
Till its supply, you cut short
Intimacy in all its appeal
Scares me shitless still

Finding comfort in every smoke cloud
Every distraction, a welcome guest
The need to hunt, the hunger
In my blood i feel the unrest

The thrill of the chase, exhilarating stuff
A rush of blood, adrenaline and friends
Oh dear, my trap is sprung
What choice game i have caught

I should feel elated, i do
I should feel giddy, i think i do
But like waters on the shore
Said joy recedes and fades slowly

Your heart, my home
My own words… I remember
Did i lie? Did i tell an untruth
Cos i feel stranger than a stranger

I do not want to lose you
But this closeness has torn us apart
You must see that, dont you?
Do you not hear the echo in my heart?

In the brochure of cowards
I wonder where id place?
Id face a moving train
But flee intimacy’s embrace.

The Aventurine.

  1. Weasley says:

    Lovely dear. Love your poetry


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s