Love, Love, Oh love
I am tired of restless
resplendent virtues
of better days;
I long for rain,
Her lurking gray;
sudden burst of emotion
Dripping, whipping, lashing
against delicate window panes,
Rattles like death;
Compliments me.
I do not speak of dying,
I am as immortal
as she.
I breathe and speak
in tiny rhymes and prayers
for daylight to wane,
I wish to recoil; tired
of the dizzy spells
from arched spines;
A memory burns, and burns
Striking matches
across my dry lips.
I shall not untie knots,
nor watch them burn.
So, I wish for rain
to be the healer
I have been looking for.
I am not weak or vague
Rather a lazy fool
Who chooses to ignore
my ability of procession,
Disrespecting the cemented
Mentality of heart ache.
I am not a pretender,
But a careless hypocrite
Who chose to withdraw
from self preservation;
I play with fire.
But for today I ask the rain
To come with night;
deliberate lies,
That embers will cool.
