All of it a tapestry Much expected is still unwoven And lies in coils at our feet Parts of it have come undone Some of the colours and shapes are mixed up But it hangs on the wall And we keep on collectively weaving in spite of it all
So quiet out Can hear my Breath With each step I take Loneliness all around Only the howling Of the wind Reminding me of Winter's Song Time to go Back in To warm my hands And frozen heart Waiting for the Sun to melt My frozen blues Away
She keeps songs locked away in boxes like secrets. She will take them out like postcards to help her remember the feeling of a different time, a different person by her side. She likes the one that makes her eyes close to see the lights. She smiles at the one that makes her stand up on tiptoes, the one that helps her forget she doesn’t know what to do with her hands.
The tune will carry her.
Like it did the times when voices broke like a heart. When instruments’ strings would snap and hurt.
I used to read your poems but lately you don't write you're silent and aloof you know that isn't right. You can't close a door once opened you can't abolish all your dreams you're a poet of the heart mustn't fall apart at the seams. Say what you can in words they speak the message true spoken from the heart the poems will see you through. A hermit's not your style a recluse, you are not never give up writing of things that you've been taught. I used to read your poems I'd read them once again if you would send them out (this one's from a poet friend)
i spent my life trying to please someone with a twisted disease i broke myself down and tucked my feelings away to become the person they wanted me to be i let myself be watched through the glass of a two sided mirror of a sociopath i wallowed my spirit away and begged for acceptance but there’s nothing in the world that i could do to let the narcissist know that i am human too
the only thing that can please a narcissist is being miserable
A little painter in her room Gathers strength while Darkness looms She takes a canvas, picks up the paints A rush of adrenalin in her veins She holds the brushes, takes a stance Her hands over the canvas dance And suddenly, the room is brightened Successful work, she's no longer frightened A powerful shield to fight the Night A little painter that paints with Light
I love him I tell myself I know that We will be together forever I don’t believe that We could be separated My thoughts tell me that He’s the love of my life Sometimes my heart lies and says I could live an eternity Without him Like my friends say “We’re perfect for each other” And you can’t tell me He’s not the one.
They said, "The most beautiful art is looking into someone's eyes when they talk about the things they love." And I said, "Or looking at someone you love. Or maybe, just maybe, by looking at the mirror is the most beautiful art anyone should appreciate."
Appreciation post for myself; for you and for everyone as well. You deserve more than the world has to offer.
We all build walls Some are to hide behind Some to prevent Some to keep out Some to mark areas We all build walls Some are real Some are imaginary Some are brick or wood Some are stone or concrete We all build walls They are boundaries Or borders Or limiters We all build walls They can be high and reach the sky Or low easy to jump or climb They can lock someone out Or keep them in We all build walls Let’s tear them down And come together
I thought if I could swallow the stars I’d be as beautiful as the evening sky I tried one night with fireflies They burned my throat Their legs striking at soft flesh But my skin did not glow No moon crawled from my eye sockets I was left with corpses in my stomach I soon learned I would only ever be A cemetery