Moonlit ocean eyes falling into fantasy A sinful city
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Puppeteer Princess, Your words stole the flavor from my dinner plate. My favorite meal became crushed tablets and stale cigarettes. You were no longer the high I chased. Love in the Northwest eludes me. Our queen-sized bed soon became a graveyard of expectations. It's funny, you used those acrylic nails to carve my name into a headstone but you could never bring yourself to write something meaningful like, "Forever Loved." I've always been nothing less than a possession. Do you remember when I left, you told me that you would place me in a box next to all of your forgotten lovers? You seem to trespass grief. You had always tried to paint me in shades that were too dark for either of us to see. Despite how much I could ever bleed, this monochrome love was too ugly for you to ever need. Winter sank its fangs into our vacant home. My estranged lover, where will you ever go? Sincerely, Your Graveyard Valentine
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Drugs pool in black veins meditation with your ghost I am losing breath
Sawyer S.
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Why can't you see me,
strung out from your sapphire eyes.
Lover in disguise.Sawyer S.
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My bucket of shame is black.
It's made of clay.
Filled with tar,
mistakes my lungs can't seem wheeze anymore.
I cough them out
into this filthy little bucket.
I'm trapped in a dirty bathroom
of an upside down studio apartment.
I clutch the bucket tightly.
I remember your name,
and feel like I've swallowed glass.
I cough violently,
and spit.Sawyer S.
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Chocolate opal eyes set ablaze a fire that would smolder all in its fury. As my blood turned blue, an immortal angel sang a long-lost lullaby to comfort the souls of sunken men. Scarlet stained truth from petty white lies, how have I become everything I once denied?
Sawyer S.
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keep me warm at night, ghosts of forgotten lovers. graveyard valentine.
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Don't think like that. I'll be gone by the morning. Smell my favorite sweater, forget what you always try to remember. "you're beautiful" are my clever words because the camera turns and you're inevitably hurt. You play with fire and expect to get burned. You always said I was thinking of her. Don't think like that. You said I was your addiction. Ghosts of valentines past whisper this same affliction. Quit me. Say it with conviction. In three months, I'll ask you how you're doing and you'll tell me that you're fine. Such a pretty, busy mind. We're all doing fine. Such a pretty, busy mind. My gentle mermaid.
Sawyer S.
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These memories are steel shackles around my feet. I am bound to you.
Sawyer S.
Addict Brain Poetry by Sawyer 