speak of touch
as words warm
my fingertips
and I ache
to hear the whispers
in bright red
your voice fades
as the sting subsides
and I only remember
the sound of lips
gently tasting
the last of my tears
A contest entry
- crimson remorse by PersephoneInWinter.
300 points, ended August 19, 2008, 17 entries
Gold trophy winner
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
Comments
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I absolutely love this. You describe the longing of wanting to cut so perfectly. One of my favorite "cutting" poems ever.
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Wow! There is some kind of intimacy and sensuality in your description that really draws me in. I really enjoyed the way you expressed your ideas and how far away you stood from emo cries. Good luck in the contest
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