17/F/Norway With my poetry, I want to wake feelings in readers. I write my heart out. I search, with my poetry, to find people who can relate. I want people to see, that they are not alone. With my poetry, I want to make a difference. 7 followers / 267 words
He doesn't burn photographs He doesn't join therapy sessions He doesn't smoke too many cigarettes Nor he drown himself into alcohol He scratches his wounds daily And never let them heal He doesn't try to get rid of the pain Instead he let it grow on him He waters the seed of sorrow with his tears He feeds it with the manure of old memories He takes it to sleep with him And nurtures it in himself Till the moment when every single drop of his blood gets replaced by this pain Until his fragile heart can bear no more And his soul starts overflowing with emotions That's when he dip his pen into this pain And empty his heart on a piece of paper He bares his soul for us to feel He creates poetry that the world would cherish for centuries to come
I wanted you. But not in a sugary way. I didn’t want the holding hands, or the sweet kisses in public. The fancy restaurant dinners, or the flowers on valentine’s day. You see, there´s a different between ****, and love. I didn’t think that I needed you. Not in that intimate, warm, comforting way. But on those days, when loneliness creeps upon me, I feel your absence. I nearly got a taste of you. But you slipped like sand through my fingers. And now, I think, I might have wanted you a lot more, than I thought I did.
My head tackled down, viewing at the ground. I dare not lift my expression, as your eyes may meet mine. It´s not that you don’t catch my interest. Have faith in me when I say this. But my eyes are the window to my soul. I´m scared to show you, how badly I am wounded. One look at me, and you will see, that I am damaged. I am broken, and I am torn. Ripped from joy, from happiness and from pleasure. Your look pierce through my senses. I tremble, with every single nerve in my body. Frightened, that you might see who I really am. It hurts me to expose all these wounds, that I attempt so desperately to stitch. I try, but I am too fearful to display myself so openly. The wall of protection that I have built for myself is withering. Lay your eyes on mine, and I will crumble. For I have been strong for too long. One taste of intimacy, has me uncluttered, like the work of a world-famous artist, exhibited for everyone to see. And that, I am not ready for.
The force of his look, swept my mind for consciousness. His sweet touch made my soul tremble. Caressing my skin with his poisonous tongue that drove me to madness. The whisperers of empty promises, that I believed. Lingering in the air, even after he´s gone.
I´d die for many loved ones. But for you, I´d live. You captivated my soul, then ran away with it. Could I please have it back? Since I no longer can have you.
Like a prisoner of the past. Unable to let go. We like the things that are certain. It´s easy for us to think, that nothing can ever be good again. Because we despise change. We fool ourselves to think that everything that we´re used to, is good for us. We chain ourselves to the invisible bed that whispers in all the right tunes. Tunes that we think we want to hear. We don´t know better than to listen, to the safe whispers of the only things we know are certain. Why do we listen to the whispers? Telling us to come closer. As we trust, in the masked whispers, we get bitten. And we bleed. Yet, we stitch our wounds, as we lay in the bed, that we think we deserve to sleep in.
A knife to my heart. I stand as I contemplate, whether I want this or not. The sharp blade, lightly caressing my skin, before puncturing through. There´s no pain that I haven´t felt. I´m not giving up, I´m letting go. I´m letting go of all the sorrows, that follows me everywhere I turn. No substance can distract me, from falling in love with the blade in my hand. I used to think it did. Those days are over. No love can stop me from bleeding. No promises can heal my scars. As I bleed myself dry, I get this feeling. I´m finally free.