For Gold

by D.   Nov 29, 2018


Come morning,

there were golden hues
cracked across the floor,

the only truth in
painted dawn;

you promised petals,
and gifted thorns,

wet blades of grass

(sharp enough to pierce
the spaces between my
ribs).

I will not be
hung by the branches,
from the briefest storm.

Strip me of my clothes,
what else are you here
for?

Whilst my body gapes,
the day is dawning;

If you are night,
come, morning.

2


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Latest Comments

  • 5 years ago

    by Courageous Dreamer

    It's great to see you around again, I love seeing some familiar faces still here. This poem speaks with such vulnerability, so much emotion of losing love. I hope you are doing well! <3

  • 5 years ago

    by Obscure

    I love this poem so much. I can't even express how much I like it. :)

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