Divine?

[zoolane]

Divine?

Pale as the colour faded from my skin.
As air is getting to be steam, as covered up the room,
My fingers are prude but creak without codliver oil not working.
Shall wipe the mirror clean with the towel?
To show my face with great disguise.
How the sharp side, I shall make myself divine again.
Sudden sigh on relieve that how beauty again.
With two new roads of my life en graven.

[zoolane]

Butterflies.

Butterflies flew across the sky head straight for me.
With their gentle, silk smooth wings.
Nesting down on my skin.
Pricking me to the warm glowing feeling.
Peirce loud comes from my mouth.
I have hole in my arm.

[everyadventure]

The loss of youth is felt sharply in your first poem!

[hillwalker]

In the first poem I can visualise someone looking at her bathroom mirror for ways to achieve perfection but knowing deep down that she's fooling herself.
You painted a great picture here.

As for 'Butterflies' - do they actually have vampire butterflies??? How did you come up with that one?

H

[Delta40]

I like devine, especially the creaking bones even with codliver oil. The steamed up mirror is a very effective tool.

[zoolane]

Thank you all for comments. Hill I have no idea about vampire butterflies.


Cherish.
The time have to cherish my soul.
With dark, silent moments.
Drift under into sub state of mind.
In limbo with my eyes try stay wire shut.
My soul need to be renew.
With no sign that happening soon.
My soul is scar and blackness.