Young Writers Society

stitches come loose to show
skin
on the backs on stars
and shows an unnatural blueness
against the blueblood of your coat

the Parisian hot sun beats down on
us
a tattoo of rays blinding what
right it front of our eyes
bloody from the onslaught of
lies and truth comprised in
the telling

a cup of coffee in your hand
blotches with sparkled vision
the steam rising in wisps
crawling upwards like a
caterpillar

we are here
yet we are not here
in this French inspired paradise
with the sweltering sun
and the petite cafés

Je t’aime
you’re so proud
of the French you learned
that night in Calais
while we waited for the taxi
that never came

I’d tell you I’d rather
be in some country hideaway
that here
but you paid for the tickets
and wanted, pleaded so much
for me to follow

you know I can’t resist you
it’s not sane

but I’m loosing my sanity here
with the ache of home
ripping me out at the seams

Je t’aime
mon chéri
Je t’aime

but I’m dying
unable to breathe
as you smother
the ability to wonder and
dream

you’re the artist
and I’m the muse
you have told me that many a time
you need me

but I’m losing my sanity here
that can’t be valuable for either
for you or for me

stitches come loose to show
torn stuffing
from the inside of me
and shows an unnatural spread of darkness
against the blackblood of your love

This is a really good poem.

I could kind of tell what you were talking about the way you put it because it was kind of my style of poetry, none of which I have posted.

French is such a pretty language.

thank you dear. yes I love French, I am currently in the equivalent of french 5 at my school. such a pretty language.

CL

PS. you should post some of your poetry. I should like to see it.

The poetry that I'm talking about, I ussually don't get a chance to write down. By the time I get a pen and paper in front of me, I forget it.

But, I'm way overdue for a post.