inside, it hurts
it screams
it pains
it aches
it wishes and hopes
but never arrives

my heart

when I say :
You
I arm twenty three letters
and I disarm
  you.

When I was a girl ‘ I dreamt of castles , kings and feast ‘ just a girl with a dream ‘ to fragile for reality too! gentle for chaos ‘ to kind for deceit

I am now a woman ‘ I dream of  power , I crave for success , I am drown with ambition’ my bones grin with fury ‘ my heart is harden ‘ my mind is of a rock ‘ I am too brutal for ones touch

too many miles
by age 9

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)

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."

The universe loves a bad joke.

Give yourself time.
Opportunities will come, to you, or ask the universe to provide them.
Open your mind.
Don’t be too ******* yourself.

-GOOD
© By HF-Whisper
28/12/2020 14:11PM

She said "I'm falling in love."

I said "I'm falling apart."

In the morning of yesterday
There were strangers talking in my garden, heads close together
Intent on each other, in whispers
I heard them say your name
And the earth shifted a little...the season moved forward a little
And I heard myself sigh like a dreamer

Harvesting hearts and marigolds
The thief steals in when we least expect it, masqued and lithe
Wanting an exploration of Souls
Oblivious, if we’re generous
But still the knife cuts deeply...the blade turns without intention
And I’m bleeding out like a Madrigal

I loved you too much in the Mirrorfall
I found you in the violin’s shadow
Dust and star tears are my witnesses
I love you
My joy and my abyss

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the things i've done,
they sank into my skin
and drew a crimson pattern
on the surface,
so when i die,
i want to die with purpose,
and cleanse away
this everlasting sin.

So many poems
and stories
have gone unwritten
due to fear of not being good enough

Liszt and the leaves sooth me
and I sway over the pavement looking up at their foliage

if there is an answer it is there
in their rustling, in their meeting of the wind and in the simplicity of the mystery

As cold and lonely as the outside can be, there's a lot less drama and pressure;
You're free

I didn't think I'd ever make it this far
But I'm glad I did

If there comes a time
that you might lose me
Find me in my poetry

Craving essences of inner thoughts
toward picturesque portraits,
to be created by soulful words--
The Artist lets emotions run rampant
through mystical sounds and touches'
delights--
A heartfelt design from a whirling frenzy
of mindful notions,
framed into a mosaic which carries this message:
"As long as life perseveres,
there will be fables following us
leading us out of the darkness."

Disrespected
Forgotten
Disobeyed
Ignored
Despised
Unrecognised
Un­deserving
Hurting

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.

Now read from bottom to top.

your name is
forbidden in
my mouth
or in my heart
because when
i think about
you;

i'll cry a little more,
hurt a little stronger
love a little softer
because you no longer
make me feel sober

i'm drunk on the
memory of you

I mistook you for a glass,
When I poured all my love
Into you

i spend my days
pouring myself into the cups of others

only to find that
when it’s time for myself
to take a sip

all that’s left
in my cup
is the remainder of a girl
who gave too much

is what saves me from


                                        


                me.

The poet lives two lives.
One on the outside,
And one in their mind.

When you look in their eyes
You could see an abyss.

If you looked long enough
You could sink into it.

But most people don’t see it.

Take the time to read the words, though,
And you would know for sure.

The poet lives in two different worlds.

You are the abundance of stars only visible to the dreamer in the wake of night

The sun and its companions as they glow to shine a light on the surface of your skin

You are the mischief that forms the toothy grin on the face of a child’s curiosity

The everlasting glow on their faces as they question the world around them

And I am lost in translation, confused, amused and somewhat enchanted

To you I am the clouds that hide away your blue skies

But to me I am the ones that shield you from the glare of a jealous sun

And to each other we are foreign, bordered and misunderstood

Lost in translation I’m waiting for you to understand ,
That to you; you’re nothing, but to me; you’re my dreamland

You.
Are.
A.
Walking.
Masterpiece.