River Paintings


I mourn and sorrow over my lovers guilt to me.
How I miss his heart of flowers seen.
I’m prideful of my work but lonesome is my heart.
No love I want but lonely nights require a restart.
Broken my bones in this puddle of pride, betwixt the night and day I lied.
Tell me how to let you go, he’s far more wanting then so.
What if moving on is intended for forgiveness?
So much so, even the early moon and the late sun can’t endure impulsiveness.
I will paint the broken leaves that live a short life.
Maybe the wind will change the time.
Though time leaves but only lonely nights.
I’d rather sit in the middle than be pushed to one that not even chirping birds can sing to.
I, for one, am not happy with thy finest thieves who soon flew.
Write me down in my sins.
I told my first lie that night then.
Kissing the lips of lost lovers under water droplets of night.
How it planned to dance in my heart just right.
Someone more suited for the broken stars.
Maybe thou will do better than I who is scarred.
Take care of the disarray that I sew on the universe.
Kiss those droplets for me better than I rehearsed.
Tell me what the earth will taste like as I become lost with thy greatest sights.
‘Twas my hands that lost balance of love, with creatures of night.

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