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Show me your heart so I can see where your soul sleeps.
Some nights I lay awake in my cold sheets,
pretending I know what love seeks.
Shadows play with raindrops on my window pane,
my eyes bleed from the constant dismay.
I smile still holding myself upright,
even though I’ve been cut low beyond my knee joints.
I yearn to be legendary,
thirst for life brings death,
while a quest for death brings forth immortality.
Amelia.
The lies you speak only bring me the truth,
and the taste is sweet from the vines of sour brooks.
I was once a romantic crook,
the love of my victims have brought forward
the offsprings of poetry books.
No longer the indicator,
I burn the incinerator and wait for cremation.
And as my bodies ash flake,
I kiss the wind and dissipate.
Gabriel K. Jones 