permanent disorder

placing my heart so
effortlessly and delicately in your hands
riddled with wounds but still beating strong
making the odds on just how long
all the wondering in your eyes will last
neat little glass shards are what
each of your fingers are made of and of course they
never held something that was already bleeding
tasty treat that you wait to devour
deep in your eyes rests the desire for more
it will not ever show its face in your words
sometimes you see how much more you take than you give
opening the door is just as scary as before
reaching for common conciousness like when you kicked ass
directly at the moon and hit it
everytime something like this happens i just smile
right when i kiss you, you leave scars
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About jaybeasley2

a writer, a painter, a poet, a wordsmith
This entry was posted in poem, poems, poetry, Uncategorized. Bookmark the permalink.

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