Saturday, 28 September 2013

I Taught Myself How To Love.

You asked me why I never write you poems (well I do you just don't see them)
But my point is it's hard to translate all that is you into a series of metaphors.
There's a lot I could say about you.
There's a lot that I can't.
I wish I could say you were the sun and the rain,
The ground I walk on, the air I breathe, 
But Blakian imagery doesn't seem to do you justice.
If I had to compare you to some grandeur symbol it wouldn't 
be an element as passive as rain. Rain's impact pales in comparison.
A thunderstorm perhaps.
A heat wave.
You have a pulse that throbs like the lashings of a tsunami.
You have a pulse that beats like the apocalypse is near.
You have a pulse that tick-tick-ticks like a time bomb. 
And It is both fearful and phenomenal. 
I cant say with certainty that I love you like the moon and the stars 
but i can say this;
I love you like the promise of destruction.
I love you (And maybe this says more 
about me than it does about you) 
But I love you because 
you'll be the death of me.
The way your 
heart pumps blood 
just fucking kills me. 

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