blogs · love · marriage · poem · Poetry · relationships · Uncategorized

Promise – II

When world is done shouting,
And silence is making your tongue heavy
Like a bad taste, pukish
I will let your head collide with my chest
Your hair scattered on my belly, crimson
Like blood at a murder scene
Your vermilion smeared on my shirt, crimson
Like a bullet through my chest.
I die in that moment of mum,
In that moment of mum, we live.
We will live through it,
I promise.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s