Tired of the ties of unseen shades
That hide the storms and screams
With very little hope of skin cuts.
Now the skin is off, torn to reveal
And let the chaperon tour in the heart
Unfold the mysteries of occupancies.
Tired of teleporting for the arm-covers
Miles and miles away from the start
sniffling for the lost magical hands
Vanished in the glamour of the breach
Unsmiling statues are just poor
Hanging to tear the joy in midnight eyes
Whenever the head lies on laps of the nightmare
And hear the whisper of the footsteps
Leaving the scents as memories
Deciding to never love again.
©love_ashes
L