
We can't save us by mere words
The reality of our brokenness is crippling
Broken conversations produce glass words to pierce an icy heart
The closer I reach is the further I feel you delve... Slowly slipping
I'm left with the shatters of what once was ... Calling through broken communications slowly mending
Piecing the broken pieces of out heart of stone together and what I found was.
Though our pieces could never be mended the same,mosaics have always been brighter
Jun 6, 2016
Jun 6, 2016 at 11:08 AM UTC
I keep going to the places we’ve been
Hoping to catch your scent\
Hoping to find the 'me' i become when you’re around
Hoping to see my glorious self though your eyes
Like the enticing smell of cheese to a rat
Smoke to a moth
A fly to a stench
Rags to the homeless
I keep sticking my nose in the air
At the spaces we've occupied
Hoping to bring the smell of the past to the present
I'm present today to bear tomorrow
Where unpleasant days awaken sorrow
That makes the valleys of my tears run dry
That the heart becomes dessert dry
And losses the grasp of air
And maybe it’s all the sniffing I’ve been doing
Chasing the past and living in your shadow
Maybe the heart and the air should depart too
And see if maybe both can exist exclusively
But the heart will be dessert dry and become dust
And the soul will remain, chasing the air that was once interwoven into its very existence
May 4, 2016
May 4, 2016 at 5:58 PM UTC
Darkness is black
but what lurks within is
dreams that will never see the light of day
Im not afraid of the dark,
i envy the unforseeable fate of a path not chosen
of dreams that will never see the light of day
Theres no blurred lines between light and darkness
The fear of what lurks within
propels me
to respect the distance between I and my dreams
Fear is a silent terrorist
An unknown enemy for the most part
a master of masquerades
That feeds on the flesh of sanity and excretes paranoia
That leaks into the streams of the heart of hearts and veto's dreams out
Apr 11, 2016
Apr 11, 2016 at 3:55 PM UTC
'
How sacrificial is love if love sacrifices itself?
how strong can it be that it survives death?
it springs up into the lives of the lost and resurrects them with the premise
that the conquest of love is eternity
A battle lost in love is not a battle of love
a battle lost 'in love' is for the absence of love
If love losses then we've succumbed to the piety
of cold tongues and shallow words, dead religion and selfish ambition
love lays all down to fulfill all truth
that love is the currency to the fountain of youth
If love knows itself-it knows its deeds,
How then can earth be rich of misdeeds?
We lust for what could've been
I CALL IT LAZY IN THE FACE OF WAR
Apr 10, 2016
Apr 10, 2016 at 5:50 PM UTC