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We are the blind faith of birds believing
In these empty sightless winds,
Sugar-spun cotton candy clouds; two kites
With trailing long strings.

We require no advice on the art of how
To fly, tangled traffic threads of candy cane
Lines of the clouds of yesteryears –
Our drive is sometimes a descent down
A mountain, make the time to embrace the sky;
Glide!

I gave up on my possession of love, to make
Peace with those demons; tears cascade like
Contemporary storms, running rivulets; craters
Upon our skin as the ache of hurt deepens...

Stinging like the creases of a well-worn shirt;
Lessons etched in the fabric of new wrinkles –
Still to remain as the silhouettes of the horizon.
Consider this:

to your past, your present,  
or your future self –  
each one perceives their own
reality as their present moment.

you have gained more wisdom
beyond your past self; you will
always feel just a day away from
encountering your future self –  

so cherish the essence of
your present self, for to it,
this moment is their present
moment.
Blinds descend upon the windows of my soul,
protecting my thoughts that are delicate as glass
Behind me, beyond myself – I gazed beyond
My façade.

I ventured past the exterior— the interior,
yearning to be recognized as a blossom,
and not merely as a
Stubborn ****.

Would someone kiss me, and not make believe –
to make me believe, that their touch won’t
Last me that long.

I’ve known a version of myself
one that’s been way too sad
For long.

To what end,
do we keep
Looking for hope
In empty songs?

"Singing to myself"
Shadows of formless flames –
silhouettes piercing my vision, through their gaze
of a relentless light. A horn of fire in my hand, I feel the
gusts of smoke-laden, blowing away my once air
filled lungs.

Tender lips brush against my heart,
awakening the remnants of darkness and chill; my spirit
resembles a mere lump of coal. I am the embodiment of love,
inspired by someone else’s dream. I toss a handful of coins
into life's faulty machine—yet another excuse to invest in
faulty dreams.

Battles yield no victors, when wars try to be won
by other wars; love cannot nourish itself if both souls
stand with open arms; one must yield; to surrender —
for even in doing nothing, lies a semblance of peace.

Individual actions act as a lifeline for those around us—
who never know how to love. The flames have scorched
my flesh, leaving blisters, woven into pain— nurse me
with the balm of patience, as every old man confronts
the inevitability of death. The question that haunts us all
is,

when?
Blind to the subject of being blind in love –
does that mean I can see?

Do I believe in the belief; of love at first sight
isn’t faith believing in that you cannot see,
that which you hope to be?


But I could close my eyes to a better scene –
when we go out and it doesn’t go so well;
we should have made it a blind date!


            Now this love feels blind.
Would you still want a touch of a garment to Heaven, even if
it kills you? Ten thousand steps away from Heaven – I could be
on my nine hundred and ninety nineth step; but the question is
would I get in without an invitation?

Would you still fall asleep, even if you wound up resting right
next to death – given a limit to your air, would you start to count
your breaths? In the end, I hope my eyes pray whenever they blink,
and my heart silently repents for their lips "good" reputation.

I hear the eery songs of sirens; my own voices in my head – that
are acting like background singers and the Devil's ****** advice.
Do I feel alive doing the things that risk my own life; mixing
desires with passion – a bit of too much passion in my own desires.
Twelve speed racing to smile, but sometimes I despise being so
nice.

Sometimes I'm a world built on lies; sometimes I lie on top of those
years long gone – the grass that's greener on the other side, I just
want to enjoy the scent of that freshly cut lawn.
do you love me Bipolar –
My heart is in a bit of disorder;
ordering my emotions, suspended by
the winds blowing me into my
Mood swings.

Does loving me sometimes feel
too irrational – do I
give you a sense of Phobia; I
cannot Lie; I have

thanatophobia

and the someone I love,
that I fear losing - in All honesty,
is losing myself to Love…
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