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must beg
ㅤㅤ
I must beg you, don't come near me;
you'll get your fingertips burnt,
you'll taste the blood on my lips,
your hands were never made to carry my sins,
you must stay away from me.
With you, the stars feel a whole lot closer; it's as if I reached my hands forward, I would be bathing in the moon's crescent light. I'm so lost in the euphoria of your embrace, that I have forgotten how high I have climbed, in a summer illusion I would soon have to erase. The sky is a long way to fall from, but if all I can do is to dim your light, then look away and set me afire, allow my ashes to fall slowly towards the end of a bittersweet dream.
If a love as tragic as ours could have a happy ever after, then Romeo and Juliet wouldn't have died in the end. They're often used as an example of undying love and devotion— but would they really have taken the same stance if they were older and wiser? I rather adore you in my poetry, in between lines I would never say outright; and I will die alone in starvation of you when my hands has been cut, and when my words could no longer satiate my hunger.
You're my religion,
craved within my very bones,
a tattoo i would carry, my whole life.
The tightness of our intertwined fingers or your professions of love, in soft whispers sometimes feels too intense that there's bile rising in my throat and an overwhelming urge to vomit a multitude of galaxies out of my very stomach. All my life, I have been bruised and loved in the roughest manner that one tender touch from you is like a drunken dream, under the summer moon, like a knife stabbing through my chest.
"I love you; in every universe and in between all the possibilities of what ifs and maybes. You're my shore, my salvation."
But my heart reeks of cemeteries, it has never learnt to love without the bloodied knuckles of another grasping it; this body you call your salvation is but the grave of a thousand memories that couldn't ever last. I was never taught to love without drowning in someone's waves, and after all, I still love you better in my mind.
With your every move, you provoke death. If to have you die under my name is my fate, then I defy it with my every breath. If to save your untaint ocean is to deprive myself of your love, then I accept it. You're my God, my religion — for you, I throw away my sanity.
You mustn't touch me, I beg you,
stay away from me, let my sanctuary fall.
I must beg you, don't come near me;
you'll get your fingertips burnt,
you'll taste the blood on my lips,
your hands were never made to carry my sins,
you must stay away from me.
With you, the stars feel a whole lot closer; it's as if I reached my hands forward, I would be bathing in the moon's crescent light. I'm so lost in the euphoria of your embrace, that I have forgotten how high I have climbed, in a summer illusion I would soon have to erase. The sky is a long way to fall from, but if all I can do is to dim your light, then look away and set me afire, allow my ashes to fall slowly towards the end of a bittersweet dream.
If a love as tragic as ours could have a happy ever after, then Romeo and Juliet wouldn't have died in the end. They're often used as an example of undying love and devotion— but would they really have taken the same stance if they were older and wiser? I rather adore you in my poetry, in between lines I would never say outright; and I will die alone in starvation of you when my hands has been cut, and when my words could no longer satiate my hunger.
You're my religion,
craved within my very bones,
a tattoo i would carry, my whole life.
The tightness of our intertwined fingers or your professions of love, in soft whispers sometimes feels too intense that there's bile rising in my throat and an overwhelming urge to vomit a multitude of galaxies out of my very stomach. All my life, I have been bruised and loved in the roughest manner that one tender touch from you is like a drunken dream, under the summer moon, like a knife stabbing through my chest.
"I love you; in every universe and in between all the possibilities of what ifs and maybes. You're my shore, my salvation."
But my heart reeks of cemeteries, it has never learnt to love without the bloodied knuckles of another grasping it; this body you call your salvation is but the grave of a thousand memories that couldn't ever last. I was never taught to love without drowning in someone's waves, and after all, I still love you better in my mind.
With your every move, you provoke death. If to have you die under my name is my fate, then I defy it with my every breath. If to save your untaint ocean is to deprive myself of your love, then I accept it. You're my God, my religion — for you, I throw away my sanity.
You mustn't touch me, I beg you,
stay away from me, let my sanctuary fall.
