moriah-jean
My poetry is the only area of my life where I am completely honest, and most of the time, it's vague or cryptic enough for no one to notice. / That's why I love to write. / / The truth is, I'm a liar. And a damn good one at that. / But really, aren't we all? / / Also, some of my favorite words are: / Intrepid, bones, wild, click, storm, toxic, hunger, ineffable... to be continued...
Hello Poetry. Sad,
I Know. But there are
just too many things
I don't like. I hate to
be rude, or disappear
without notice. So I'm
posting this first,
and then, in a few days
will deactivate my
account. It's been a pleasure
knowing and reading
you all. I've been
very active on
DeviantArt, if you're
interested. I'll put
a link in the author's
comments. Follow me
there, and join me
too! It's a wonderful
community of
artists. Much love to
HP! No hard feelings,
please.
Mar 28, 2011
Mar 28, 2011 at 4:04 PM UTC
Our love was like
the quill you gave me for Christmas
that one year, that
I never learned how to use.
Aesthetically pleasing,
object of envy,
idea of perfection, but
sloppy and awkward in practice.
We could've been brilliant,
but we could never get it right.
So we gave up trying, to gather dust
on display.
But even that grew less appealing
(until it wasn't anymore).
Our affair was like
the bag of dark chocolate kisses
you gave me on our first Christmas
together.
I devoured the entire thing
in secret, and
threw away the wrappers
without a thought.
We were meant to be
expendable.
So we took all that was offered,
and gave nothing in return.
But all bad habits take time to break
(until they don't anymore).
Mar 15, 2011
Mar 15, 2011 at 4:28 PM UTC
If I were a tumbleweed,
I think I'd like for you to be the wind.
I wouldn't mind if maybe,
You'd just take me, and I could see
the world upon your whim.
But, I'm not a tumbleweed...
I like to think I'm wild as the jungle.
And you, Oh, precious you,
would never dare to cage me,
But tangle with me -
Bloom and over-grow.
Then together, we'd be rapturous and elusive.
I know, I know,
My disposition's fickle, love.
But you've got my heart beating
to your song.
I'm still a bird,
Whose only love is melody -
And my wings are growing weary;
I think I'd like to rest upon
your branches.
Mar 15, 2011
Mar 15, 2011 at 4:08 PM UTC
I want to be shaken.
To feel {{ eternity, }}
and taste death.
To dip my feet in youth,
and sandcastles of
build out time.
I want to hold my life in the palms of my hands,
and watch it s.c.a.t.t.e.r. in the wind,
to see which moments light-up-like-stars
or lightning bugs,
And which ones only create ~ dust ~
on other people's keepsakes.
But I'm afraid, (so afraid)
too much of it would just be ash
that blows ~ away...
And no one could call that beautiful.
If I knew every moment was precious,
I wouldn't spend another moment here.
I want to be moved;
I need to be
shaken.
Mar 13, 2011
Mar 13, 2011 at 5:14 PM UTC
The way you lace wonderful words together
to form stellar sentences
leaves me {{ breathless.}}
You say the most heavy words, like it's effortless
and I am moved.
They slip gracefully
off
your
tongue
to rest in my marrow,
decorating my brainwaves and
bringing light to all my darkest places.
They meet me in my nightmares
and
lace their fingers through mine
like it's where they were meant to be,
...like they'll never leave my side again,
...like a promise.
And you know I believe in you so much,
(so much.)
But
mybed'sstillemptyeverynight.
And even though your words meet my eyes
After bouncing off satalites,
I can only thank them for traveling - so far - to
tickle my finger tips and
ed.
rn
tu
make the corners of my mouth up
They're still only meteors burning up
before
i.m.p.a.c.t.
(and they could never hold me)
But, my fingers will whisper a reply,
Give it a second to bounce around in space
(It may get distracted by a few stars on the way),
You'll still light up upon reading,
"I love you."
(even.badly.)
Mar 13, 2011
Mar 13, 2011 at 5:07 PM UTC
I've been knocking on all the wrong doors,
So God flung open a window and told me to breathe.
"Be still," He whispered,
"You've forgotten all the things I ever taught you."
I fell onto the floor and didn't move;
I wore my shame like clothes that didn't fit right.
"It's just that, these lights have grown dimmer, Lord.
When I was no longer able to see, I died to feel instead."
My excuse was flimsy, but I clutched it to my chest;
It was all I had to replace my faltering heartbeat.
"You can't feel anything when you're dead,
And you're always learning everything the hard way."
I closed my eyes and let His words surround me;
They seeped into my skin, strengthening my sinew.
A spark caught in my soul, reigniting a fire I'd forgotten.
I opened up my eyes to see the walls were made of glass.
The world outside was beautiful,
But God told me not to move,
"A storm's coming, child. I'll let you watch,
but I wont let it touch you. And when it passes,
I'll open up the door."
He tested me with storms, but tempted me with freedom.
I put my trust in Him.
So when thunder rattled the walls and threatened my being,
I sat in silence and watched the storm roll in.
With every streak of lightning and every drop of rain,
I came back to life.
Mar 13, 2011
Mar 13, 2011 at 4:58 PM UTC
I missed you yesterday.
So I started folding paper planes,
But I knew they'd never reach you.
Aerodynamics paper really up.
and doesn't add
I switched to folding boats instead,
And they looked strong and sharp.
But they sank even
faster
than
my
heart.
And, no one ever taught me how to sail.
Then, I tried my hand at paper cranes,
Because, I read somewhere,
"One thousand cranes are good for one true wish."
But I stopped after forty-three,
When I ran out of square paper and band-aids.
So, I folded up some stars instead,
But they weren't any good.
They didn't twinkle and they couldn't
even
fall...
(and i stopped wishing on stars years ago).
I gave up on origami; I was never very good.
Paper only likes me when with pen.
Instead, I'll try to reach you
with the words I love to write --
poetry [and] promises [and] dreams
(and maybe a few apologies for loving you all wrong).
All I really wanted to say was,
"Baby, run away with me."
But I didn't think - the words alone - would move you.
Mar 10, 2011
Mar 10, 2011 at 3:25 PM UTC
My hands are tied behind my back, and
I've swallowed more keys than I can count.
The devil himself couldn't pick these locks and,
God's still on a sabbatical.
I slept for a thousand years but,
Still woke up just in time to see you leaving.
You kissed me awake with no intention of saving me,
Even though you knew my fears were dragons holding me back.
They don't breathe fire; they just burn me up.
I tried to scream, but opened my mouth to
realize my vocal chords were out of tune.
The sound came out as scratches and
I choked on the flecks of rust.
You walked away while whispering, "You never moved me,"
But the sound waves couldn't reach my ears in time;
I dove from the lone window in my tower,
And as I fell, I prayed that I could fly.
Mar 10, 2011
Mar 10, 2011 at 3:19 PM UTC
I'd like to close my eyes and
breathe you in and
die.
I'm choking on your heartbeat, but
who needs to swallow?
Your muscles wrap around me,
constricting my every move.
I'm caged in by beautiful happenings and
I'm in love with your tense-and-release.
My skin sticks to your lips as
My fingers get tangled in your hair.
Your body is a garden I am lost in;
Your vines tie me down and
I am ravaged. The air is
thick and salty as the ocean;
We could drown together
(and i would welcome it).
We saw eternity but forgot to
take any pictures, then we
traveled back in time to make sure
life couldn't go on without us.
Our battle scars will tell the
story better than we could.
The moment was so heavy
it almost crushed me,
(and i think i wouldn't have minded).
No one lives forever and
I'd like to die while I'm living.
We squeezed a lifetime into
one euphoric moment; I
wouldn't dare let ***** greed
ask for more.
I'd like to close my eyes and
breathe you in and
die.
Mar 8, 2011
Mar 8, 2011 at 10:03 PM UTC
He suffocates me as you
watch; callous and indifferent, he will
chew me up and spit me out.
I breathe tar into my lungs and call it
love; my spine turns into paste,
oozing through my pores and into his
mattress. And even if you could
scoop me up, I'd still be * pliable* -
putty in your hands.
You believe in saving, like I believe in
being saved, but I'm still just
treading water while you
swim. And my dawn hasn't scared away
my darkness. He's holding me under while I
thrash; My bones may turn into
pearls, but I wont develop
gills in time to breathe, and
there's a good chance I've been
dead for years already anyways. Let me
slip through your fingers like
sand or time, God knows I've never
been worth saving. Yesterday I was
beautiful, today I'm shooting stars, but
tomorrow I'll just be the
blood you can't seem to
wash from under your fingernails. I'm
unforgettable for no other reason than
you can't rinse my taste from your
mouth; I like to leave
scars - So save your energy for yourself and
let him take me; the truth is,
We deserve each other.
Mar 8, 2011
Mar 8, 2011 at 10:00 PM UTC