deepundergroundpoetry.com

Cups

It was 3 or maybe 4
shadows attacking
from the ceiling or
from the floor
eyes too heavy to be sure

knives piercing my throat
blood stains dripping
upon cotton sheets

the sheets where I wished you
a thousand nights attacking me

I know your/you're mind/mine
and I know your/you're kind
and no better i wish to find
with all your imperfections
perfectly blending

a glass of the (un)holy
filling my cups
never ending

the dragon as it flys
the bee and her sting
the pond, the sea
the old man, the free

I stare and I stare
no others compare
nor compose

my demons arrest
my angel, my best
this blood thirsty soul
bitten, devoured and drained

now whole