My hot liquid drug

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Status: In Progress  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic

Submitted: June 04, 2017

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Submitted: June 04, 2017

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It burns a suffocating caress all through my burden senses. It makes me fly, sad when that feeling must die, then bores guilt it was all a lie. What other could burn a most wonderful burn? Let the sensation of reuniting the rain with the clouds sneak up on you? Or manifest untrue warmth so to cast a shadow over the sun? It’s no good they say, condemned with more than a million curses.

 Yet, they would shudder to learn how well it nurses. We want the short-lasting promise, we need bitter sentiments and each empty hole washed in hot tides melting them out of the freezing cold. We want the promise of a powerful release letting it pour over wounds repeating it’s tune. I feel so high, it makes me fly, sad when that feeling must die, then bores guilt for it was all a lie.


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