martha-renee-jones - Hello Poetry

I sit here in this hospital bed staring at the television screen watching some marathon on TLC I laugh along with the nurse's jokes I nod when the doctor talks and I patiently wait for a visitor. My mother stops by she helps me wash my hair I text you an update of how I am My mother hugs and leaves And again it's just me and TLC Another day goes by my patience is wearing thin when will I see someone? I text you again with some random thought and wait some more for a reply Tomorrow arrives a day too soon More blood is drawn from my arm and my heart I open my snapchat bored out of my mind and there you are. There you are with your friends looking young and alive and here I am...here I am. I don't understand we called ourselves sisters... we said our bond was unbreakable... One visitor. No texts. I ******* miss you. But where the **** are you now?

0

Aug 10, 2014

Aug 10, 2014 at 10:16 PM UTC

martha-renee-jones

One True Friend

I sit here in this hospital bed staring at the television screen watching some marathon on TLC I laugh along with the nurse's jokes I nod when the doctor talks and I patiently wait for a visitor. My mother stops by she helps me wash my hair I text you an update of how I am My mother hugs and leaves And again it's just me and TLC Another day goes by my patience is wearing thin when will I see someone? I text you again with some random thought and wait some more for a reply Tomorrow arrives a day too soon More blood is drawn from my arm and my heart I open my snapchat bored out of my mind and there you are. There you are with your friends looking young and alive and here I am...here I am. I don't understand we called ourselves sisters... we said our bond was unbreakable... One visitor. No texts. I ******* miss you. But where the **** are you now?

33

She looked at him with a gaze that was as heady and intoxicating as the dark wine she swirled in a crystal glass. He had never before felt such tender, true love in his heart as he gazed into the heavily lidded eyes that were the gateway to a soul that was his own as much as it was hers. They drank each other from the crystal glass of sensation until their souls were drunk on the chaotic serenity of love.

0

Apr 27, 2014

Apr 27, 2014 at 10:36 PM UTC

martha-renee-jones

Crystal Glass

She looked at him with a gaze that was as heady and intoxicating as the dark wine she swirled in a crystal glass. He had never before felt such tender, true love in his heart as he gazed into the heavily lidded eyes that were the gateway to a soul that was his own as much as it was hers. They drank each other from the crystal glass of sensation until their souls were drunk on the chaotic serenity of love.

1

broken hopes and broken hearts shudder in the shells of broken men. songs they sang of freedom are but whispers belonging to the wind cruelly gnawing at their ears and rattling the shackles that clutch their silent throats and defeated fists

0

Mar 4, 2013

Mar 4, 2013 at 8:34 PM UTC

martha-renee-jones

Opression

broken hopes and broken hearts shudder in the shells of broken men. songs they sang of freedom are but whispers belonging to the wind cruelly gnawing at their ears and rattling the shackles that clutch their silent throats and defeated fists

7

This globe beneath me within hand's reach turns and turns and turns What am I? I am the language between the trees and waves painting the globe with gentle strokes from a brush made of stars What am I? I am the painter of the fields and the sunrise of a sleepy morning I fill this globe of mine with the colors of my soul. What am I? I am the heartbeat of this world beating and resonating waiting for the globe to dance

0

Jan 19, 2013

Jan 19, 2013 at 1:22 AM UTC

martha-renee-jones

What am I?

This globe beneath me within hand's reach turns and turns and turns What am I? I am the language between the trees and waves painting the globe with gentle strokes from a brush made of stars What am I? I am the painter of the fields and the sunrise of a sleepy morning I fill this globe of mine with the colors of my soul. What am I? I am the heartbeat of this world beating and resonating waiting for the globe to dance

17