Limerence

A million candles lay on a sand made of gold
They sing a song of limerence, sad and bold
Carefully sipping from a glass made of steel
Oh, how beautiful it is to feel.

I can scent the petrichor wrestling with the air
As my mind blows away blindly falling in love with a morning prayer
But your shadow still makes my heart puerile
Oh, how inert it is to feel.

I shall make a blanket of the heavenly blue sky
And maybe then it will turn violet for you and I
But till then it’s pitch black, almost unreal
Oh, how violent it is to feel.

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About whatsername

Sadness somehow squeezed itself into this decomposed heart of mine and as soon as it stepped into the lonely rooms of my soul all doors shut bringing home a present of infinite winter. A legend once said to paint beamish words on a piece of paper so sadness may find it's place on a shelf between made up stories and ring the truth of infinite sadness. View all posts by whatsername

2 responses to “Limerence

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