sheena-mogan - Hello Poetry

I look at myself and sometimes I wonder when it was exactly That I broke. Why is there an ocean Inside of me? And why is it so angry? Are you the moon That causes my tides? You wont stop, sweetheart. I know you can't help your pull. But maybe my ocean is to be blamed for existing. My core is rigid but I've never felt so vulnerable.

0

Mar 27, 2014

Mar 27, 2014 at 9:26 PM UTC

Internal

I look at myself and sometimes I wonder when it was exactly That I broke. Why is there an ocean Inside of me? And why is it so angry? Are you the moon That causes my tides? You wont stop, sweetheart. I know you can't help your pull. But maybe my ocean is to be blamed for existing. My core is rigid but I've never felt so vulnerable.

12

I hear you whisper sweet words only I can hear; beautiful silence.

0

Mar 17, 2014

Mar 17, 2014 at 1:59 AM UTC

A Voice

I hear you whisper sweet words only I can hear; beautiful silence.

3

If I were air, I’d be the wind on your face as you try to get away on your bike. Caressing the curvature from your cheekbones to your chin. If I were brightness, I’d be the flame from your lighter. Here to light your cigarettes and candles. If I were clothing, I’d be your t-shirt. Listening to you inhale defeat and exhale content. If I were the darkness, I’d be your shadow. Ever present during the day and holding you at night. If I were a mystery, I’d be the ocean You could discover my depth. If I were a beat, I’d be the ticking of your wristwatch. A reminder each second that time progresses. If I were words, I’d arrange myself into a book. A story to keep you company in the winter. If I were a spirit, I’d be a ghost. Silently witnessing how you live. If I were an addiction, I’d be your last cigarette. You’d desire to get more of my flavor. If I were hopefulness, I’d be your ambitions. In hope that you’d find me buried somewhere in your dreams. If I were a body part, I’d be your fingernails. Close to your lips when you become anxious. If I were a color, I’d be red. Living within your veins. But I am not. You put your hand up to block the wind. You only strike my flame for a moment, and then put me out. All I hear are empty sighs And you’ve become afraid of what is in the darkness. You’ve learned swim to shore, to escape my vastness And my loud ticking at night drives you insane. You’ve read me to boredom. I feel your presence, but you feel none of mine. You’ve smoked too much and can’t feel the high anymore, And you do not dream any more. You only have nightmares. Your nails are now bitten to the bone. And you’ve bled yourself dry.

0

Mar 16, 2014

Mar 16, 2014 at 12:09 AM UTC

A Remedy

If I were air, I’d be the wind on your face as you try to get away on your bike. Caressing the curvature from your cheekbones to your chin. If I were brightness, I’d be the flame from your lighter. Here to light your cigarettes and candles. If I were clothing, I’d be your t-shirt. Listening to you inhale defeat and exhale content. If I were the darkness, I’d be your shadow. Ever present during the day and holding you at night. If I were a mystery, I’d be the ocean You could discover my depth. If I were a beat, I’d be the ticking of your wristwatch. A reminder each second that time progresses. If I were words, I’d arrange myself into a book. A story to keep you company in the winter. If I were a spirit, I’d be a ghost. Silently witnessing how you live. If I were an addiction, I’d be your last cigarette. You’d desire to get more of my flavor. If I were hopefulness, I’d be your ambitions. In hope that you’d find me buried somewhere in your dreams. If I were a body part, I’d be your fingernails. Close to your lips when you become anxious. If I were a color, I’d be red. Living within your veins. But I am not. You put your hand up to block the wind. You only strike my flame for a moment, and then put me out. All I hear are empty sighs And you’ve become afraid of what is in the darkness. You’ve learned swim to shore, to escape my vastness And my loud ticking at night drives you insane. You’ve read me to boredom. I feel your presence, but you feel none of mine. You’ve smoked too much and can’t feel the high anymore, And you do not dream any more. You only have nightmares. Your nails are now bitten to the bone. And you’ve bled yourself dry.

37

We delve down deep within To decipher dreams and demons; To deduce the true denotation of our decisions. Diminishing greatness Derived from the dead and done. What we must discover is that we are Dimensionless; dissolved. We are individuals as a device. Devised and intertwined.

0

Mar 15, 2014

Mar 15, 2014 at 10:12 PM UTC

Denseless

We delve down deep within To decipher dreams and demons; To deduce the true denotation of our decisions. Diminishing greatness Derived from the dead and done. What we must discover is that we are Dimensionless; dissolved. We are individuals as a device. Devised and intertwined.

9