Metaphorical Winter

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: True Confessions  |  House: Young Aspiring Authors

My worst moments are my greatest inspirations. Yet my biggest downfall

Submitted: September 26, 2017

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Submitted: September 26, 2017



By metaphorical standards I am not a shadow but a ghost
Roaming the ruins of time that have left me for dead

I breathe still,
And here I still stand
Lingering like a whisper in the wind
A trinket in my hand 

What I hold dearest
Cannot only be touched
She can be heard
From miles away
Through the roar of the tidal waves
That threaten to storm out of the sea

I call to her
And she will always return
Back to me
Back to where we should be

I call her many names
But most of all she is named truth
She hurts me with the sharpness of her love
And tortures me so that I cannot help but beg for the mercy of wanting more

She is everything I am not
And everything I never want to be
Because if I see it all in her eyes
There's nothing I would rather be than here in her burning embrace

I tell her to burn me alive
I will gladly fall to ash at her feet
I ask her to swallow me whole 
And pull me apart from within
Free me from the lies
That hold me too tight 
I can finally see the light from distance

She calls
So I will return 
And I will hold her 
As she held me
I will fill her cold heart with joy
If only for the remaining moments 
For I am the beautiful lie
And she the painful truth 

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