deepundergroundpoetry.com
Tides ( Malva )
Of treetops and ground worms I sit beneath a sky of dismal but undying love of two.
You misunderstand me for my intentions are consuming and my ideas are quite manic and improper.
A fallen leaf sits near my foot and I want to crush it for the anger and sorrow have collided and now all I want is to see the red along my hands from your chest.
Thomas, dearest, I understand now what you meant when you said you thought you wanted to harm people.
The demon that so took hold of your heart seems to crawl in the ear of my head and invade my very actions.
Just yesterday, or this morning, I found myself sitting at the kitchen table.
Stroking and smiling at the dull shine of a undull blade that I haven't taken to liking since yesterday.
But the meaning of holding this knife was different from when I wanted to hurt my own self, I wanted to jab it into 'mothers'...
Malva, malva, malva, malva.
This is my demon.
One that so hates me but now.
We get along and hate another.
I see the flesh torn and ripped and red in my dreams.
I feel the heat from the tissue and screams on my skin.
I yearn to hear the agony.
What have this be?
Who takes over my mind?
Malva, malva, malva, malva.
That damned beast.
Malva.
Her eyes glimmer and gleam.
Malva.
Please come with me and put an end to the woman.
No.
I drink cold tea
with hot metal
and the salty womb
of a demon I so call
Malva
for I am consumed by love.
You misunderstand me for my intentions are consuming and my ideas are quite manic and improper.
A fallen leaf sits near my foot and I want to crush it for the anger and sorrow have collided and now all I want is to see the red along my hands from your chest.
Thomas, dearest, I understand now what you meant when you said you thought you wanted to harm people.
The demon that so took hold of your heart seems to crawl in the ear of my head and invade my very actions.
Just yesterday, or this morning, I found myself sitting at the kitchen table.
Stroking and smiling at the dull shine of a undull blade that I haven't taken to liking since yesterday.
But the meaning of holding this knife was different from when I wanted to hurt my own self, I wanted to jab it into 'mothers'...
Malva, malva, malva, malva.
This is my demon.
One that so hates me but now.
We get along and hate another.
I see the flesh torn and ripped and red in my dreams.
I feel the heat from the tissue and screams on my skin.
I yearn to hear the agony.
What have this be?
Who takes over my mind?
Malva, malva, malva, malva.
That damned beast.
Malva.
Her eyes glimmer and gleam.
Malva.
Please come with me and put an end to the woman.
No.
I drink cold tea
with hot metal
and the salty womb
of a demon I so call
Malva
for I am consumed by love.
Published 23rd Oct 2011
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