Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
Heather Weeks Aug 2012
You make me colorful,
Through the grey and black dreary day,
You speak me yellow,
You hear me pink,
Colors all throughout me.
Love makes me feel this way.
Heather Weeks Aug 2012
A wish upon a petal.
A petal beholds a wish.
A wish plucked,
A petal wished.
A petal gone,
A petal new,
A wish upon a petal,
and love became true.
When me and my sister were little, we would pluck flowers, take all of the petals, and put them in this tree that we believed would take the petals up to our grandfather in heaven. So then that turned into that you could use a petal as a wish or a prayer. We would get a petal, say a wish over it, and let the wind take it away. This poem is about that and how I wished on a petal for love.
Heather Weeks Aug 2012
Where did she go?
The curls cut and dyed.
Her face replaced with makeup.
Her fear rises and she explodes.
Our memories forgotten,
She bites hard,
I cling to her essence.
Remind her of what should be.
We had plans for a lifetime.
This is wrong.
I miss her.
Paine has taken over,
Rayne has destroyed her.
All is left is our muddy time capsule,
and all of my scars.
My best friend is gone.
This is about my best friend who changed a lot after going through some hard times.
Heather Weeks Aug 2012
My heart grovels,
Your words scooping me out.
The hole leaving me hollow.
To her, she can't feel the rest of herself.
Heather Weeks Aug 2012
I dream for many things
None of which is close in reach.
Far away and distant, the mock me.
But I stay strong and disagree,
Not knowing what would
happen if I didn't dream.
Cold, shady
I dream for many things.
Heather Weeks Aug 2012
I dream about a world,
Magical and Mystical,
with Mysteries of time.
Love and Darkness collide,
making passion.
Every desire given,
every thought manifested.
Dreams come to life
and all questions are answered.
It is beautiful and joyful.
Enemies don't exist
and its peaceful all moments.
Love heals all and Hate destroys nothing
in Summerland.
This poem was inspired by the book Evermore by Alyson Noel. Summerland was like a purgatory of a sort.
Heather Weeks Aug 2012
My eyes used to be blue.
Along with winter they faded.
Summer brings hazel.
With fall they might turn,
Unless I found my evergreen.
Next page