Memories of jagged breathing
close by
pierce through the scars
left by the bonds they made.
My heart
fragmented into jagged shards
hurts like disco lights,
bruises further each day.
Over the blades of the memories
of the same singular day
it bruises further each day.
As each day, each new dawn
follows through to concluding dusk
the memories augment in the sense
of mere memories...
The memories of the sound, the heat
of jagged breathing close by
pierce through the scars
left by the bonds they made.

I drink the poetry
about beautiful scenary
and barricade myself when
at dusk
through the gates of heaven
escape those beautiful golden rays
and transform the street out
into the cauldron of the alchemist
for
the golden rays remind me.

I drink the poetry
about beautiful scenary
for it soothes, smoothens
the jagged edges of my heart.
But I abstain
from swinging whiskey(for the same effect)
for the warm chills remind me.

For they remind me
of jagged breathing close by,
of the pain in the scars
formed in the empty spaces
left by the bonds they made.