July 5, 2011
By Asya Zuyeva BRONZE, Bournemouth, Other
Asya Zuyeva BRONZE, Bournemouth, Other
3 articles 0 photos 0 comments

It dawns on evenings

(Choked and droning)

Heartstrings moaning

Sting to sting.

And I start heaving all your spiders


Who tug smiles and cling.

Oh hateful darling,

Wear your smirking

No swiftness lurking

In your arms.

Like violet prizes

He who lies is

The laugher -

Spitting no alarm.

You'll never know

Short stabs wound deeper

Than any murderous

Playful act,

For with betrayal

Stairs grow steeper

And here our steps are always cracked.

Imploded chest,

I plead - leave sobbing

You'll bawl in dreams

So now hold back?

I heard one thing which rations -


Steal that, c'est confiance I lack.

And so. We live

If ribs are breathing.

These eyes are sewn,

The iris grey.

Dry tongue won't sing

They say its grieving

Thus - hourly month

Of yearly day.

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