amber maria moon
Memories Of The Waves
Took my sleepy hand and dragged me down,
To the sea, below the sound and the rush,
If you did, it was a good plan,
Better than my own.
And, did you guess that you'd take back the nice things that were said
Replace them, with horrific things you did.
Cold pulse. burning breath.
I never saw your face, through the mask,
all the recognition from
When you looked in the mirror and noticed it gone.
Innocence and sweet incomprehension,
Covered now with fiery snow, blood
Flakes of skin peeling.
like a heart
Pricked with white.
Veiled with memories of stone, in heads strong sight.
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Poet's Notes about The Poem
This poem is meant to be about drowning, although its not really clear. hope you liked it. i wrote this a very long time ago, i know it's far from perfect. drowning is probably one of the worst ways i would wish to die, but i still fell theres something about it that i find intriguing.
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