If age is measured
in allegories,
then,
I am truly
an old soul.
Apr 28, 2014
Apr 28, 2014 at 2:25 AM UTC
and the clouds go on,
gently tip-toeing up, up,
while we stand, watching
Apr 28, 2014
Apr 28, 2014 at 2:23 AM UTC
why do you stand there,
with so majestic a stance?
so quizzical an eye?
so secretive a mouth?
so tender of heart?
yet,
yet so bruised of soul?
Apr 28, 2014
Apr 28, 2014 at 2:20 AM UTC
Can I capture your words and put them in a jar?
And save them for the days when you’ll be afar?
Apr 28, 2014
Apr 28, 2014 at 2:19 AM UTC
Your eyes never wilted,
but,
i could hear
the flowers
in your voice
Apr 28, 2014
Apr 28, 2014 at 2:18 AM UTC
She sat there alone with her thoughts and tears
Constantly reminded of recent fears
She knew that there was nothing in the end
Not a soul on the path and no lasting friend
So full of emotion full of feelings she'd had
And some of them were really quite bad
She felt way too sensitive and then way too numb
Everything that existed reduced to silent hums
Color drained from world, like water tipped from a glass
The life drained from those who mattered, alas
If only it drained from her as well
In another world she might as well dwell
Her existence here didn't matter much
But she pondered that thought and had feelings as such
Peaceful sleep with calming dreams
Changed, reversed to panicked screams
Everything was melting, everything but she
Yet all she wanted was life not to be
So hard and strange, confusing to survive
Every time she faded, she'd be revived
Oh, but if only she could simply vanish
Not feel anything, and in anyway not tarnish
The history of people and the thoughts they contain
But to fade slowly from memories and be not refrained
Because that would help her and others she thought
But that's not what happened and not what is,
And that definitely, will not.
Mar 17, 2012
Mar 17, 2012 at 3:24 AM UTC
Overwhelmed by the surplus
of thought and emotion. I wish to end
such feelings. Yet each time I do come near
stopping -
passing into the bliss
of sleep - they attack harder.
Driving away all strands
of sanity. Consuming me,
thoroughly: the good and bad,
till I am left
as nothing
but a shadow
of my body.
Alas shadows, are creatures
of the day, of the sun; come
nightfall my shadowy existence ceases, bringing peace
to me, with sweet silent sleep.
Each day, brand new, is one more
spent waiting
for two turns of th’clock.
That will, have time stop.
Mar 17, 2012
Mar 17, 2012 at 3:21 AM UTC
There’s nothing left to say,
no emotion to betray,
no moment left to spare,
nobody who would care.
Sep 29, 2011
Sep 29, 2011 at 11:12 AM UTC
You left me to be all alone,
With nowhere to go but home.
But if home was with you,
Then now what shall I do?
Sep 29, 2011
Sep 29, 2011 at 11:11 AM UTC