1440 minutes of sadness

Sometimes we both feel like snatching the serum
From each second and
Re arrange the cells
Following a formula
Already memorized and too much
Practiced in school

Please today don't tell me about love
As it barely clings
In a trembling eyelid
Just do not confuse  my tired look
With the suture point
From the dark blue wounds

Now you sit on the soft chair of my thoughts
As if you were a bunch of flowers
Over my grave
I'm ready to burst
Myself
Or the one inside me
( picture deviantart.com
author Gadjo TNT)