I Tried Some Love Poems

I don't think it's really my forte

Photo by Daniela Turcanu on Unsplash

I can hear you rot
My length along your grave
Ear against the cold, turned earth
I can hear your belly skin strain 
Thin against the gasses
Pressing to escape

I can hear you rot
Digesting yourself
Generating sticky heat 
Enough to jelly your fat
Blood thick, dammed
Collecting in collapsed veins
I can hear it pool and bruise your skin

I can hear the sucking pop 
Of your joints coming unglued
Your brain is soft and sloshy
Your fingers crack and curl

I can hear the worms
Gnawing at your eyes
Slither through your nose
Bugs crawl on me too, while I
Listen to them eating you
I’m letting them eat me, too

Photo by ANIRUDH on Unsplash

Broken promise
Broken skin
Within the heart
The rush of love
Without the heart
The rush of blood

Captive of the scythe 
Reaped but never sewn
Loves lies pallid, bleeding
Upon the weathered stone

Photo by ameenfahmy on Unsplash

Roses are red
Your lips are blue
Garrote is a French word*
For I strangled you

*Not quite sure about this translation, might be some poetic license here…