28/F/Appleton, WI I was born to write, it often helps me shed the emotions that I keep bottled. Poetry comes the easiest to me, there for I write it the most. I love reading others poems to help inspire my pen to flow. 59 followers / 4.3k words
A box of rusted feelings hides in the salvaged yard of my mind. Jagged sorrows and broken promises surround the dismembered machinery, forgotten and guarded.
The old dog with his once beastly growl, no longer cares who leaves or stays. The dirt below, slowly pulling forming his final resting place.
Shabby parts like tired looks rot under thunderstorms of powering weather. Torn threads like once relationships, patched and torn asunder The Stacks pile high, a top the years of mistakes The box slowly sinks heaving more and more heartbreaks
There are tunnels to places with holes in the world The bottom is endless where darkness endures I can hear from the top, a voice pulling me down the twinkle captures my thoughts in a rhythm of sounds
I've walked passed the rabbit hole too many times choosing to remain unscathed by it's crimes And every day, I wander back to its door enraptured with the calling and dark of it's world
I reach down with hands, both clean and warm to feel the dirt and cold pour out of her core I know that I shouldn't, I know that I might take a trip down the hole, and be back before night
Each morning I linger at the base of the hole Lulled by the melody, seeping below Time crashed to a halt, standing perfectly still My head is a maze, completely robbed of my will
Obsession grows, taking root in the mind dragging me down, one day at a time As I sit by the hole, contemplating my dive I slowly spiral down without ever knowing why
There are tunnels to places with holes in the world There are those that will dive and those that will swirl There are those that will fall, without knowing they have Fatality drowning in darkness, stuck in a trap