Kind of

Before I please you
I kind of cry
and then, when you are pleased,
I kind of die
waiting for the next time
you’ll need to use my tears
for you to breath,
for me to stop breathing.

That’s how it feels
to love the dead
even when he is kind of alive,

like a head, cut off, from the voice and up
like a body, cut off, from the heart and up.
like a soul, cut off, from the feelings and up.

Kind of burning a wild-wood
that doesn’t have a land underneath its roots.

Written by Artemios
Published | Edited 3rd Jan 2017
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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