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 Apr 2019 CautiousRain
Emma P
 Apr 2019 CautiousRain
Emma P
When I say
that you are my Sun,
I don’t mean that you are
Or even the center of my universe.
I simply mean that
I cannot look at you
Without hurting
A butterfly?
You are not

A dandelion
Flower seed
Floats in the breeze?
No! you are not

A little bird
Gliding in the sky?
Certainly not

Your dancing stroll
In the field of orchids
Carefree and aimless,
Carries an aurora of
Grace and peace

Heart! go out there
And be like her,
At least be a
Dandelion flower seed
our mouths
are poured with honey.
yours are saline.
you swallow us
and you spit us
like we're too bad of a taste.
you cuff us.
tight noose to our necks.
break our bones.
pour hot water to our skin.
feed us nothing but salt.
what is it to you
if a man
is in love
with another?
 Nov 2018 CautiousRain
I miss you like you’re living
With you I felt like I could breath
Biting, stinging
With you I could breathe
But they told me I have to hold my breath
Or else I’ll drown
So I don’t breathe anymore
And no one breathes
And we all hold our breath in silence
But god,
I wish I could breathe
And god,
You made me feel like I could breathe
 Oct 2018 CautiousRain
when a heart broken
pours out all
her feelings and
translates them onto
words. something
beautiful gets created.
appreciated by many but
never the one
she's always written her
heart out for.
 Oct 2018 CautiousRain
you don't own me;
yet you gripped my past
gave me nightmares,
and made me loathe living.

you don't own me;
but you claimed to be
my saviour when
you blindly tied me
to your wills.

you don't own me,
for I won't be owned,
by no one but myself.
Been through few events in my life, where I felt like I do not belong to myself
 Sep 2018 CautiousRain
i should have taken it as sign
when you told me
you hated poetry
not because
i need you to like
everything i like
or i need you to appreciate
everything i appreciate
but because
when i told you
what it felt like for me
to write poetry
and to read poetry
the feeling of being
grounded and understood
all at once
the feeling of
having somewhere to escape to
and finding a home
you still told me
you hated poetry
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