last night
I came to the conclusion
that
every time you leave, I
die a little inside
and
I don’t want to tell you
‘cause
if you knew
I’m not sure whether you’d
stay in effort to keep me alive
or if you’d
keep on leaving until I’m
dead
one day
you will realize
I am everything
you never deserved
one day
I will realize
I am everything
you don't deserve
She wants to feel the softness of feathers upon the tips of her toes
Reaching out for comfort that will surely come
Caresses the moments before midnight
With suger kisses so sweet
Like honey coated forgiveness
She smiles into her lovers eyes of crystal dew
Beyond
Her sences reeling
Twirling, dancing
Like the figurine within an ancient music box
As the music surrounds the childs mind so pure
And yet
There is more captured within
The sweetness is soured only by memories
She paints with fingers in the suger
To forget
There are things so worth forgetting
She sees him sleeping and places
mirrors where his eyes once looked upon her
For now she will see herself
The way he see's
The blood from the girl child dried as he slept
There was to be no more sugered moments
No more honey for him to savour
she had seen
Her worth in his eyes
Such a shame sweet child
She should of loved herself with toes touching feathers
Reaching for a comfort
That would only be found in forgiveness of self
Far beyond the place he sleeps
With mirrored eyes of crystal dew
He awakes to find his beloved drenthed in death
He reaches for moments which never come
Her projection of him so false upon this moment
As in a moments seperation
She sees with her angel presence
The suger he tastes on lips so pure
His tears now mingle with the blood
As he tears her mirrors from his eyes
He understands not
The reason
Why white feathers are falling from the sky
this morning, at 3:17
I was laying on your chest
awake
listening to your heartbeat
and I realized that
it is no longer my favorite song
goodbye
I wake up, half past two,
late again, but dreamt of you.
Of all the things I wouldn't do?
Dream of you, a tortured tale.
Save past weeks you're new to me,
a shiny thing in endless sea,
but once too many have I believed,
then broken, lost, bereaved.
In my head you died, you see.
You couldn't have, he cheated she!
But yes, I know, it is, believe.
I didn't try, defaulted fail.
Soon won't pass
but in my head,
a thousand words
were never said,
an empty tale,
a soreful fail,
a broken, heartless, coward.
Allow me to cry for you
As I hear your story
And absorb each pain
Hurry!
These rising oceans
I can no longer contain.
Watch as my tears flow
Like raging rivers
Beneath Thundering rains
You
Freed and released me
From my emotional chains.
© Tina Thompson
4/28/2013
I would write you a poem
to tell you how I feel
but when you left
the melodic flow that
passionately pieced
my words together
followed you
out
the
door
there are a few things
about death that
frighten me
the sound of the shriek my mother will make
and the
permanent frown my dad will have
every time he stares into the distance
and the
tear drop that will stain my siblings cheeks
every night
and the
lump that will never leave
my best friends throat
there are a few things
about death that
frighten me
and
none of them happen to be
dying
When Peace evades me
and Hope fades to a memory.
When Frustration and Grief become my only friends
and Weak and Weary try their best to settle in.
Just as Hatred is knocking at my door...
My knees find their way to the floor
and I cry out
I NEED YOU LORD, like never before.
© Tina Thompson
We can only be thankful that
Your first moments in Heaven
Were surely as tranquil as your last
Ones on Earth were terrifying.
If I, unknown observer as I am,
Could collect and crystallise all
The tears shed by all the heartsick
Strangers for them, these angels
Before their time, to fashion into
A tower of Remembrance
Thatt scraped the clouds
And almost pierced the heavens
Themselves, I would do it.
If it were possible to
Grow wings and fly
Past those hazy golden gates
To reclaim those premature cherubs,
There would be a feathered storm
Of clumsily-winged humans
Clamouring to do their bit,
So much so that
The gates themselves would disintegrate.
All the eyes in the world fill
And spill for the victims, for those
Sent to Heaven before they were ready,
And for those left in their wake.
May God hold them all in His arms.
