— a poem of potpourris.

Death-dealing

If only we had the chance.

Photo by cottonbro from Pexels

We’d be lethal, you and I,
exceedingly harmful to our effects.
Our minds combined, we’d be the storm;
making the world sleep with one eye open.

We’d be fatal,
we’d make their state terminal
Our hearts coalesced; theirs wouldn’t stand a chance
We’d cease the beats and make them ours.

I care not for this feeling I’m having
albeit they’re beyond tiring, vibrantly consuming
I’d never end these thoughts, I swear
I guess they were always mine to store and hoard

We’d be deadly together, even when
we haven’t had the chance
to know each other
beyond our names.