Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
ashes to ashes
and dust to dust
we know no real pain
until we find trust
then that trust is broken
and so are our bones
i entered this world crying
and i'll leave it
alone
The red flag
Was painted in blood
Across your face

The warning signs
Disguised as butterflies
Fluttering in empty space

The people who told me
To step away
Never understood

While most of you was bad
You were still the only thing remaining
That felt good
he would start whistling
Very random
and very loud

even at night in bed

and stopping him was
very much a
gamble

The caterpillar-like
stitches on
his wife’s arm were a testimony
to that

He’s never been the same
since his head injury
Poor fellow just had the terrible,
terrible luck to
walk underneath an overpass while
some teenagers were throwing
big rocks for fun

Now he kept calling the emergency
number and crying that
his wife had
gone missing when she’d be just
in the other room or at work

The neighbors filed
noise complaints
because of
his nightly whistling
and apparently he no longer knew
how to use the
toilet paper. He always smelled
and it was worse when
he climbed in bed
besides his wife

It was hell
and hell broke people
and tonight again he started whistling
and woke her up
and as a response
she started whistling as well

They whistled together
in the dark
under the covers
and held hands and smiled
after so long
https://drbogdan.home.blog/2020/12/06/sometimes-you-dont-have-to-lead-the-insane-to-happiness-but-to-follow/
I’m sorry

I’m sorry that I am a pain
I’m sorry that I walk in the rain
I’m sorry I act like a little kid
I am sorry for all I ever did

I’m sorry for all I feel
I’m sorry that I am real
I’m sorry for raising my hand
I’m sorry that I'm willing to stand

I’m sorry
Truly sorry
I hope you understand

I am invisible
I am asexual
I am an atheist
I bi-romantic

I'm only fifteen
So "I don't know what I mean"
I'm a feminist
I stand up and resist

And I’m sorry that I live

I was born into a world full of doubt and hate
I was born into a world where I was always too late
And every time my heart beats it breaks
Every time I force a smile it aches

I wear a mask made of paper mache
I know it sounds cliche
But that is simply just the way
That is simply my day by day

So I’m sorry
So sorry
What can I say?

I’m sorry
So sorry
But now what is the price you must pay?

So I’m sorry
I’m sorry that I don't have much to give
I’m sorry
So sorry

But even still I live.
written years ago, found again in old files
The tears come easy.
I wish they weren't for you, but
everything is.
I wonder if you
give thought to me in these times
when I feel most lost.
Velvet tongue. Serpent.
It's hard to touch your skin or
look into your eyes.
Subtlety is poetry in practice.
Too bad the world is made up of bad journalists.
I wake before dawn
to the soft sound of breathing
and am thankful
for another moment like this.
Next page