My Grip Of Death

About how hard it can be to let go of anger.

My Grip of Death:

Sitting in my head   
trying to find a way to pretend,                             
smoking a cig on the bed   
without an ashtray again..                                  

My little angel in the ashtray,                            
you shine right through the dust.
You sparkle like a F****n diamond
underneath all the rust.

With diamond hard clarity u see it all.
I see the world thru rusty rimmed glasses,
yet my fire burns so bright,
impulsively brilliant before it passes.

With childlike brightness,
my eye's so blue with you,
yet you can see passion enslaved to ashes
troubled by never knowing what lit my fuse.

You can see thru my pent up rage,
You live with my scars every day
and with your own u try and pray,
try to let go and just forget,
but im not done yet with my grip of death:

Of my own, i cant get passed,
Of my own, i am the prey
Of my own broken glass.
Of my own, i will give in someday:

For you, and all the light you've shown.
For you, until we've found our own.











 

 

Author's Note

This is a piece I wrote about a relationship, what yuh think?

Reviews

[Mia Fin]

Awesome piece! I really liked it, dark, yet, with almost a hint of hope behind it. (At least, that is what I got from it!) I enjoyed reading it, great job!