i am not free.
can I blame
the lips that have never been kissed like this
unknowing of pure transcending
within passion burning, desired within a blown candle a wish
that you to finally understand, encapsulate and re-define
what love is?
can I blame
the chest that has never seen rest, beating heart
thumping, nonetheless
incapable of arched back, nape of neck freedom rest
seizing the night to form new dawns as sun rises
to sleep filled nights-are you the blank state
at which i peek to day to form a horizon
naked with dew, moisture beads forming puddles skin to his
to finally understand, reflect and re-design
what love is?
can i blame you?
point fingers and have three shoving at me
so I can rectify this situation and show you that the consensus agrees
that two wrongs can't make a right and your arithmetic doesn't quite add
fine lines and wrinkles, wasted years and wasted tears
upon which eyes moisturize, fragrance of salt tinkles
and i am what you thought i was all that i am and say to be?
to love you. how can i blame you if you don't fully understand
and you show the enigma placed within the emptiness between our hands
distance coming forth and shadowed by the reverberation and acoustic whispers of
one filled laughter sounds within the walls, now we hold silence in hushed environments
like we have said everything we needed to say-
we have said it all?
you will never understand. understand that blame cannot be put on me,
put on you-that you should be clothed in orange issued federal prison hues
for the crime you committed to break a heart, kick ass and take names
yet, without love to be known in the first place,
can you take the blame?
you knew not what love was.
what it is.
what it can be.
the pure mediocrity of what you envision a heart beats
and slaves its owner to the rhythm in which you see
blinded by ghosts of the girlfriends past
and haunted by past hurt and pain,
surely, my love...
i cannot place my blame.
while justice rears its ugly head, balanced scales
upon the Roman Goddess Justitia blinds herself with cloths tattered
un-yielding and unbiased, she seeks karma to
my heart shattered and it seems that while the gavel placed
upon mahogany wood shows we played our relationship
in jest, a checkmate of the Queen within this game,
upon you, i cannot place
the blame.
-b.r.rivera
12 of 30
#30in30
http://beverlyrivera.blogspot.com
http://writerswrite.ning.com
can I blame
the lips that have never been kissed like this
unknowing of pure transcending
within passion burning, desired within a blown candle a wish
that you to finally understand, encapsulate and re-define
what love is?
can I blame
the chest that has never seen rest, beating heart
thumping, nonetheless
incapable of arched back, nape of neck freedom rest
seizing the night to form new dawns as sun rises
to sleep filled nights-are you the blank state
at which i peek to day to form a horizon
naked with dew, moisture beads forming puddles skin to his
to finally understand, reflect and re-design
what love is?
can i blame you?
point fingers and have three shoving at me
so I can rectify this situation and show you that the consensus agrees
that two wrongs can't make a right and your arithmetic doesn't quite add
fine lines and wrinkles, wasted years and wasted tears
upon which eyes moisturize, fragrance of salt tinkles
and i am what you thought i was all that i am and say to be?
to love you. how can i blame you if you don't fully understand
and you show the enigma placed within the emptiness between our hands
distance coming forth and shadowed by the reverberation and acoustic whispers of
one filled laughter sounds within the walls, now we hold silence in hushed environments
like we have said everything we needed to say-
we have said it all?
you will never understand. understand that blame cannot be put on me,
put on you-that you should be clothed in orange issued federal prison hues
for the crime you committed to break a heart, kick ass and take names
yet, without love to be known in the first place,
can you take the blame?
you knew not what love was.
what it is.
what it can be.
the pure mediocrity of what you envision a heart beats
and slaves its owner to the rhythm in which you see
blinded by ghosts of the girlfriends past
and haunted by past hurt and pain,
surely, my love...
i cannot place my blame.
while justice rears its ugly head, balanced scales
upon the Roman Goddess Justitia blinds herself with cloths tattered
un-yielding and unbiased, she seeks karma to
my heart shattered and it seems that while the gavel placed
upon mahogany wood shows we played our relationship
in jest, a checkmate of the Queen within this game,
upon you, i cannot place
the blame.
-b.r.rivera
12 of 30
#30in30
http://beverlyrivera.blogspot.com
http://writerswrite.ning.com
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