deepundergroundpoetry.com
Empty As The Bottles
Empty as the bottles that litter my nightstand,
Feelings for one don't drizzle to fill them up, but lay buried in a heart that bleeds for redemption.
Unbreakable glass, but it laid shattered when he rose from his hideaway in the grey with a remedy for what ales and what pains.
He had with him her words to fill the cracks of her defeat, adhesive to put her pieces back to form,
But in mission to tend her wounds he found they were his own and her blood that bleeds is that that scars his rusty soul.
She borrows from him whats missing and he finds himself whole in her, but fear...it leaves him with empty bottles, wanting what he resists but always wants.
Feelings for one don't drizzle to fill them up, but lay buried in a heart that bleeds for redemption.
Unbreakable glass, but it laid shattered when he rose from his hideaway in the grey with a remedy for what ales and what pains.
He had with him her words to fill the cracks of her defeat, adhesive to put her pieces back to form,
But in mission to tend her wounds he found they were his own and her blood that bleeds is that that scars his rusty soul.
She borrows from him whats missing and he finds himself whole in her, but fear...it leaves him with empty bottles, wanting what he resists but always wants.
Published 17th Nov 2016
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