deepundergroundpoetry.com
Syllable
If i close my eyes and
control my breathing
These walls still splattered with
your technicolour dreams
soaking in every fucking syllable desired
leaking from my walls like dampness
on the mornings cold rise flooding back
between the sheets.
If I close my eye's and
control my breathing
control my breathing
These walls still splattered with
your technicolour dreams
soaking in every fucking syllable desired
leaking from my walls like dampness
on the mornings cold rise flooding back
between the sheets.
If I close my eye's and
control my breathing
Published 10th Aug 2014
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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10th Aug 2014 8:09am
Refreshing evocative write - felt I was there beside you - cool writing indeed Rose
10th Aug 2014 8:12am
10th Aug 2014 8:58am
Beautiful piece, Rose. Great line:
"These walls still splattered with
your technicolor dreams "
"These walls still splattered with
your technicolor dreams "
10th Aug 2014 9:16am
10th Aug 2014 12:36pm
10th Aug 2014 1:15pm
Anonymous
10th Aug 2014 3:12pm
Lots of fun levels... thanks for this
10th Aug 2014 4:05pm
10th Aug 2014 3:57pm
10th Aug 2014 4:05pm
10th Aug 2014 8:06pm
10th Aug 2014 9:31pm
10th Aug 2014 10:07pm
11th Aug 2014 5:56am
10th Aug 2014 11:24pm
Maybe it's just my twisted mind but I'm not reading this as sexy or sensual - or maybe I'm over reading it?
At first I thought you were talking about the technicolor lies that come flooding out of a television - that invade one's mind - values and perceptions ... leaving us in cold sweats ...
- then I thought the same could be said of a lover who promised so much in the warmth of a bed but in the end left only the dampness of cold sweats
At first I thought you were talking about the technicolor lies that come flooding out of a television - that invade one's mind - values and perceptions ... leaving us in cold sweats ...
- then I thought the same could be said of a lover who promised so much in the warmth of a bed but in the end left only the dampness of cold sweats
11th Aug 2014 5:59am
As with all poems it's the readers interpretation of any given piece that changes from person to person
this is why we write
to kick start people's imaginations
I'm glad you thought it was like this LSP
this is why we write
to kick start people's imaginations
I'm glad you thought it was like this LSP
