Dirty Nails

Dirty Nails

Of sand and shit
These hands never knew
What would the nails of dirt be like.
A question of many.
A certain fear of disposition
Of these nails.
My tendency of staying alike.
Forgetting soberness.
Staying stained.

Listen.
My nails sing the serenade
Of false tranquility.
In frenzy
I think of keeping it alive.
My last resort.
Oh, how much these fingers want to
Touch you and play with your hair.
But, there is a big wall to climb.

Rose petals?
Even the thorns would feel
The disgrace I carry.
My rigidity stops me.
Keeping everything on hold.

To leave you unscathed.
To leave you untouched.
To leave you uninfected.

A solemn wish to keep you unswayed.




Poetry by CJScrawls
Read 455 times
Written on 2018-07-04 at 05:56

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one trick pony The PoetBay support member heart!
these poems, today, range from sweet to unsettling. i prefer sweet, but appreciate your range and sincerity ~
2018-07-05