Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
Is it perfect, did I get it right?
Missing pieces, relatable feels.
Sweaty palms, panic, fright.
Heart jumps back, chest reels.

Incomplete, forever it will be,
blinded by the daunting fear.
No one’s work, is mastery,
others judge it, don’t you see?

Self improvement guide’s,
our next steps towards,
the best self versions,
as we move forward.

Waiting for approval,
justified by the few,
who never truly,
understand you.

They say less is more,
but there is more in less,
so how do you choose your words?
To not be left with regret!

My words are for the amateurs,
critics step aside,
together our words will flourish,
together we realize.

Get it out the door, they
say you only live once.
Continue writing more,
go on inspire on!
 Aug 2015 Blacksilhouettes
dan
i'm a listening ear to anyone
and a nobody to everyone

you may say i'm somebody to you
but we both know it isnt true

showing false compassion
for a nobody like me from you
I'll forgive you when I want,
Just not right now because i can't !!!
We talk,
We know.
We kiss,
We love.

(Complications)

She walks away,
I fall apart.
I get together,
She starts to doubt.

She falls apart,
I'm far away.
She brings me closer,
I start to doubt.

We talk,
We don't know.
We kiss,
Maybe we're wrong.

(Simplifications)

She starts to cry,
I calm her down.
Love is here,
Why can't we see?

Blindness is gone,
I kiss her eyes.
She hugs me tight,
I can see her insides.

We talk,
Now we know.
We feel,
We can't be wrong.

(Solidification)

Touching
Feeling
Kissing
Feelings

So much happiness
So much love
Happy tears
And now the void.

We don't talk,
We know.
We don't know what we know.
What's going on?

(Fear gently approaches)

I start to doubt,
She's far away.
Bodies so close,
Never enough.

Beating hearts,
Holding hands,
Syncing sighs,
Silence awaits.

We don't talk.
Are we done?
We're so close,
Love can't be gone.

(Emptiness)

I start to cry,
She hugs me tight.
What does it mean?
There's no reply.

We're blind again.
What happens now?
If this isn't the end,
Where has it gone?
Why do we never know enough of happy ends?
This is our very own '84
they watch where you've been
they see what you wore,
who you were with and who's
given who what,
recorded and sorted
filed and reviewed,
I wonder what kind of a camera
they use and
when do
they choose to use it.

This is our very own '84
we've been eighty-sixed.
The ink falls off the page
only to take shape.
Ten words to stArt you off   regards P@ul.
tell me i am not alone.

Love P@ul.
Next page