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bleed words
ㅤㅤ
I love you, like a dying star loves the sky,
and maybe, only when the world is on fire,
would i ever stop — or perhaps,
even then, i would find you pretty,
dancing in between the raging flames.
For you, I bleed words which takes the form of a dozens of poems and pieces, filling up all the bank pages of my diaries. And my cupboard is filled with letters, that will never reach it's destination, letters that will never be held by your tender fingers. I'm but a shooting star that would soon leave your vast sky, and I wish upon my devastation, that your blue may never turn gray.
You are my sanctuary, my religion, my god; you're everything that belongs to everyone else, you're the one thing that can't solely be for this barely beating heart.
A plethora of letters, containing secrets of a millinnia,
your beauty written, and worshipped like Aphrodite,
your flaws described, and loved like a love song.
This is but my last letter, wrote with the remaining breathes you've filled in my lungs. I have persisted this long only for you; the light, I'll be basking under. Oh, let the curtain fall, let it block your rays, before the darkness corrupts even your pure sun. I'm kneeling before you, my God, allow me to fly away, free me from the confines of your love.
The blood has long stopped flowing through my brain, the cells has long ceased to function, yet still, you are everything I can think about. My last breathes are spent loving you — my last breathes are not air, but your love, a toxic amount but still so little. It makes me ponder, for how many more lifetimes do I have to breathe your love, so that, there's no more to give, to write?
the flower dries, the sun sets,
but this love persists,
mixing with the air,
that the whole world will breathe.
it'll finally become a part of you,
now my love is forever evergreen.
the last letter.
/ 最后一个字母
I love you, like a dying star loves the sky,
and maybe, only when the world is on fire,
would i ever stop — or perhaps,
even then, i would find you pretty,
dancing in between the raging flames.
For you, I bleed words which takes the form of a dozens of poems and pieces, filling up all the bank pages of my diaries. And my cupboard is filled with letters, that will never reach it's destination, letters that will never be held by your tender fingers. I'm but a shooting star that would soon leave your vast sky, and I wish upon my devastation, that your blue may never turn gray.
You are my sanctuary, my religion, my god; you're everything that belongs to everyone else, you're the one thing that can't solely be for this barely beating heart.
A plethora of letters, containing secrets of a millinnia,
your beauty written, and worshipped like Aphrodite,
your flaws described, and loved like a love song.
This is but my last letter, wrote with the remaining breathes you've filled in my lungs. I have persisted this long only for you; the light, I'll be basking under. Oh, let the curtain fall, let it block your rays, before the darkness corrupts even your pure sun. I'm kneeling before you, my God, allow me to fly away, free me from the confines of your love.
The blood has long stopped flowing through my brain, the cells has long ceased to function, yet still, you are everything I can think about. My last breathes are spent loving you — my last breathes are not air, but your love, a toxic amount but still so little. It makes me ponder, for how many more lifetimes do I have to breathe your love, so that, there's no more to give, to write?
the flower dries, the sun sets,
but this love persists,
mixing with the air,
that the whole world will breathe.
it'll finally become a part of you,
now my love is forever evergreen.
the last letter.
/ 最后一个字母
