Post by →izzehkins← on Apr 20, 2010 17:52:42 GMT -6
yes, that's all i know about the author. and i have looked up sarah helen whitman because apparently she published poems by the name helen, but i couldn't find anything.
Your arms invite me
Into an open embrace of thorns
And I --
Entranced by the earnestness of your pleasing eyes and wistful soul
Fall into them without a second's delay
Only to find that I can't break away
This grasp your tendrils have me entwined in
So binding, so restricting
Are my voluntary razor blades
Notching up my arms and heart
Slowly, with the letters of your name
-- The torturous escapades that keep me sane
You never say "I love you"
But you never say goodbye
The time between the anticipation of the first
And the dreading of the last
Are my deepest agony
Your invisible shackles set me free
But one day you retracted all your roses
And whisked away your garden
The blood-soaked tendrils disappeared
And you were nowhere near
I screamed and screamed and screamed for you
But you couldn't, or didn't want to hear
I'm begging you this most desperate wish
-- Give me back your instuments of torture!
Alone, you are a seducing angel
And I, a paling memory
But together we make
The saddest kind of tragedy
Your arms invite me
Into an open embrace of thorns
And I --
Entranced by the earnestness of your pleasing eyes and wistful soul
Fall into them without a second's delay
Only to find that I can't break away
This grasp your tendrils have me entwined in
So binding, so restricting
Are my voluntary razor blades
Notching up my arms and heart
Slowly, with the letters of your name
-- The torturous escapades that keep me sane
You never say "I love you"
But you never say goodbye
The time between the anticipation of the first
And the dreading of the last
Are my deepest agony
Your invisible shackles set me free
But one day you retracted all your roses
And whisked away your garden
The blood-soaked tendrils disappeared
And you were nowhere near
I screamed and screamed and screamed for you
But you couldn't, or didn't want to hear
I'm begging you this most desperate wish
-- Give me back your instuments of torture!
Alone, you are a seducing angel
And I, a paling memory
But together we make
The saddest kind of tragedy
