We cannot write silence.
The beats.
The pause.
The breath.
The way it aches
and persists
and begs that,
if only for a moment,
our consciousness is only a whisper.
our bodies,
our lips,
the air that passes through falling chests
and stillness.
A melody of emotion.
Sleeping in the quiet of a heartbeat skipped
a word lost to the wind.
The wickedness of reticence
Encapsulated in air and time.
The moment stretched too long.
Hesitation perpetuated in the grip of fingernails
pressed into palms.
We cannot write silence,
but we can try.
to find a way to immortalize emotion
to create space
in the ceaseless drone of words that speak and spin.
I cannot write silence. But I can write
tears and years
and the burn of long-stretched lies.
I can write goodbyes and hellos
And dozen ways to say
I love to hate you
Or
I hate to love you
and sometimes
I cannot tell the difference.
Silence.
The space I have upheld for myself.
I love to hate you
Heart.
I hate to love you too.
I cannot write silence.
But I know it.
and I have held it in my hand.
Aug 18, 2018
Aug 18, 2018 at 6:01 AM UTC
You can tell they care by the way they look at you
How with a glance they peer into your soul
and I can't help but look away at the thought of someone liking what they see
it's an uncomfortable thought, someone peering into the darkness -- willing to seize it
Aug 16, 2018
Aug 16, 2018 at 12:01 PM UTC
With the same pen and paper as the last love letter I wrote, I now write this.
PREAMBLE:
Everyday he'll suffer in silence and I'll be content with the thought. The same hand that wrote loving words is the same hand that brought tears to his eyes.
Over betrayal and deceit hidden in plain view with a longing of decadence and validation.
BODY:
He choose carefully, or so he thought - the wounded of the flock.
But he knew...somehow that I was different.
Unable to be read like a simple book, I am that of an enigma to most, alluring to others.
I could have loved that side of him -- the part unrestrained by persona. The damaged part, carefully tucked away.
But the beast must be fed by the tears of the innocent,
a pervasive pattern of loving women he made love him back.
He fed his soul with their sadness.
For he deceived them for proof of love and in it, he destroyed himself.
Day by day, he'll look at me and realize, like the last - he was wrong.
That someone had cared and someone was hurt, and that was not I.
And I am grateful -
for not loving a traitor.
To his own cause or mine.
Because every time he looks for validation in the tears of others.
I will not be there
and he will not find me.
Aug 14, 2018
Aug 14, 2018 at 7:06 PM UTC
What I fear most
Is that intellectuals and scholars have never been understood
And that I stand among them
Like a ***** in today's time
Unworthy and misunderstood
The slightest Infraction a death sentence to a meaningful existence
If, for only a second, they could see things how I do.
How grand it could be.
Aug 6, 2018
Aug 6, 2018 at 7:47 PM UTC
The silence is deafening
a whirlwind around me
of loose paper and dark thoughts
Sadness and supply of no importance
within the world around
Aug 3, 2018
Aug 3, 2018 at 9:15 PM UTC
Sadness the epidemic
the current currency of
a world so ******
and bound by obscurities
no one can reason with
Death plagues with a
consistency of tears and
tragedy - love lost and
with it hope lay sullen
like the fawn fast asleep at
the worlds end
Aug 3, 2018
Aug 3, 2018 at 9:11 PM UTC
I didn't know I was lost
in every lost soul, the bones of a miracle
I'll guide you home no matter where you are
lost in your eyes drowning in blue
you can be the sunlight & I'll be the dawn
Sometimes I get a good feeling
cause I see you for you and your beautiful scars
without you I'd be lost at sea
Do you still believe in one another?
After all this time, tell me can't you feel
I wouldn't be what I am today
So hollow in a world without you
like a river running free
I've been watching you, hurting too
one day you'll leave this world behind so live a life you will remember
for a Better day, my dreams are made of gold
Do you think about me when the crowd is gone
won't let you fade into darkness
shadows that live in your heart
why worry now
You'll be safe
hold my hand just in case
I see you behind those tired eyes
but we made a promise to never grow old
like the wind we'll be wild and free
Apr 20, 2018
Apr 20, 2018 at 4:46 PM UTC
the misinterpretation of words
stuttered benign thoughts
of weighty inquisition
insistant upon
explaining themselves
to a lenders ear
but for a moment
Apr 17, 2018
Apr 17, 2018 at 6:59 PM UTC
arousal in the bite of an apple
the corn husks of golden air
shards of pain through fine spinned glass
grasping pillowy down
hot summer aire on a springs eve
innocence of a man
though flesh tainted desire
aquamarine and rose colored sin
through thick speech
and alcohol in a trance
peeled layers of time
and wrought the iron fist
of deceit and despair
proud flesh bares no semblance
in the choir of the angels
Apr 17, 2018
Apr 17, 2018 at 6:44 PM UTC
Concession
what does it mean to concede
give up, in & allow
a defamation of self
allegation to the obligatory
an allegory of
nights and days
steadfast
Hold ground
for what
if life is a concession
itself
Apr 11, 2018
Apr 11, 2018 at 4:20 PM UTC