It's ironic how a water bottle full of vodka never freezes yet once the sky starts to brighten you try not to wince as the cold fire burns down your throat, how is it a new blushing sky can make you see the wounds struggling to heal inside.

Darling you can't heal the steel wall inside of you with finger tips set a blaze,the tendrils of fire running down your throat snaking across your collar bone, mocking  kisses from a long ago lover.

Can you still feel the gentle sigh washing away the sting of a venomous tongue?, or do you relish in the spiking sun racing through your virginal veins?

Dear how can you awaken from a dreamless slumber and dare rejoice in the renewal of a world you have abandoned?......

Isn't it ironic how the soul from a lover recedes against a tide that all at once begs for its caress yet forces it to flee? Yes the seasons change but dear how long must you dwell in the bleakest of dawns?.

© SaraM