You held the blade of rejection
over the blackened scars of my heart
each night as I slept off the wine
hands were trembling with resistance
to your many wicked ways
I would have done it myself
if truth had a last name
and could see
thru the empty corridors
of my faded past
but it is beautifully sad
how long silence
can hold a note
in the dream songs
we used to sing
So there you lay
enchanted with loneliness
cuddling with fear
and the dying rose
pinned to the poem
folded into your pocket
is a painful regret
you should have killed me first
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Reviews of "Letter to Dying Love"
Reviewed by Rukiya Faizah (Reader)
Reviewed on February 15, 2006
Oh wow!!!...wow. wow. wow. You never cease to amaze me. This poem is dark and it is so emotional.
"how long silence
can hold a note
in the dream songs
we used to sing "
This poem makes me feel the pain that I've felt before...it brings back imagery of past passions that were twisted with deceptions and neg. vibes. Nice write, once again.
Using Calgary as a backdrop the author satirizes the self-serving nature of the public as it continues to fatten itself, not only physically, but egotistically as well.
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"how long silence
can hold a note
in the dream songs
we used to sing "
This poem makes me feel the pain that I've felt before...it brings back imagery of past passions that were twisted with deceptions and neg. vibes. Nice write, once again.
But you do good work...
Best,
Elizabeth