Inside The Pocket Of Pheona

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

Submitted: June 27, 2017

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Submitted: June 27, 2017

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They say that time can make it right. But they won't tell me how I'll make it through tonight. Inside the pocket of Pheona is a man in a coma. Falling on styes of repercussion and turning blue from suffocation. In the midnight rain. She stares through my window pane. Awaiting dusk's distant light . That rattles the rhythm of a heart's last fight. I've been in the black dawn for too far gone. Every day is a kiss that tells me something's wrong. Eat away my fears. Return youth back to the years. That wither away . Murder in my mind.

Tumble weeds grow in a shaded dire. They smoke when you come near . They could start a fire. Blister me with scars. Thirty two bars and Fifty one stars. One last forgotten. That can't exist. Understand the reasons I forever hold my feelings. Vernacular mime mute the words of time. If she brought me my stitch I'd have nothing to deny. Such as her heart. Been away for far too long. The window pane is all but gone. She has nothing to posion with her eyes. Can't the night go on ? To a different kiss that won't be wrong? Age spots vanity creeping in my dawn. It's a final sign. Of murder in my mind .

Feel it , Be it , See it , Conceive it. My misery. Inside the pocket of pheona. Is a corpse with torched aroma. A time of life where I lived in Barcelona. Heaven for the while. A heart aching for cleansing bile. Figure eight these chains she kept on me. One bottle of red wine. To bleed with time. Fog the memory of the murder in my mind.

When I reach silver chairs in the midnight rain. I see a flash of lightning in a window pane. It holds pure beauty that never rests. Filling my conviction with a lonely heart's... arrest. Cardiac in gazing sockets. Waiting to forgotten like the man in Pheona's pocket. As the wedding bells chime... Another murder is born in my mind . ... Is this just a dream ??


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