A small cast of iron
Winds around your finger
Beams hit the walls, as
you move
In the yellow diamond room
A moth ridden chair at
your back
Sits in quiet melancholy
Half burnt cuban cigar dangles from
your fingers
Calloused, yellow, you move
To the powdery books
Unturned, rotten yellow pages
You thumb your way through
With slow eagerness
You flutter across her room
In sad anticipation
A gold heart sits on
the dresser.
Each drag of that cigar blows
her away
Farther from you
Farther from me
Now, do you see?
The iron cast held her true in
your clasp
Yours were bound to Persephone.
She knew.
A moth escapes from the
old armchair and flies
out cracked windows
You are
Too Late.
NI 
Ok, so first – your blog is beautiful! I am in love with every detail!
Second – you love literature! That’s awesome, I studied Lit to undergrad level!
Third – you wrote this??
I found you on Vivianna Does Makeup & thought I’d say hi! I’m glad I did, time to snoop around & see what other gems you have on here.
The Mirror Affects
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Thank you so so much for your sweet words, it means so much to me 🙂 Yeah, I’m currently a first year at University 😀 And yes, I did write this as sort of an experiment into poetry. I’m trying to write more poetry these days just to see if its something I can improve!
Thank you so much for taking the time to see my blog and I really do hope you like it 🙂 It’s such a nice feeling to read such a lovely response from someone xxx
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