Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 Jul 2020 Thewallflowerguy
erin
what does it feel like to be held
not by another body
not by a set of limbs, a chest, a chin
but
by another soul

what does it feel like
to see truth in another pair of eyes
instead of hidden intentions
instead of absence

what does it feel like
to hear a familiar heartbeat
resounding next to your own
reaching through skin
through bone
two rhythms
indistinguishable

what does it feel like
to write poems about
a love that exists
I went to such great lengths to keep you happy
Now I'm broken and tired and no one's fixing me up
So I gotta fix myself
For those who gave it their all but ended up badly hurt in the process.
 Mar 2020 Thewallflowerguy
Oliver
“Oh, I forgot about you”
There goes a brick.

“You don’t mind if we go without you, right?”
Thud, there’s another.

“Could you just shut up for a second?”
Another.

“I can’t be around you when you’re sad”
Another.

“What’s wrong with you? I have it worse”
And another.

“Honestly, I didn’t notice you were here”
The bricks stack nicely on one another.

“I’d rather hang out with someone else, sorry”
My hands are raw from building.

“You’re a friend, you’re just not a best friend, y’know?”
The wall is getting higher.

“...”
I can’t see anyone anymore.
I love, when you unzip the layers of your personas,
letting me peek behind the mask
Revealing your raw edges
allowing me to be your haven from the world of facade.

I love, when you strip down your heart, 
unfold your thoughts, 
share your inner struggles
and pour your secrets into my ear
allowing me to be your sanctuary.

I love, when you lean your head on my shoulder
let my hands hold yours
and you let your tears flow
allowing me to be your solace.

I love, when you’re vulnerable and raw with me
making me one of the very few of those
who knows the darkest and brightest part of your mind,
and who are deeply embedded in your heart.
It’s not easy,
Having a heart made of porcelain.
Always guarded. Always on the lookout.
For people with lead mallets,
Formed by words and actions.

It's not easy,
Being held together by glue and shriveling tape.

So many attacks on my humanity,
I’ve fallen apart so many times.

It’s not easy,
Piecing yourself together on the bathroom floor at 2 am.
So, when the sun rises you can hold others together while they fall apart.
Because while you are made of glass you pretend to be glue.
The glue that holds everyone together.

It’s not easy,
acting so strong when in reality you are so vulnerable.
E.r.t.
I am adept
In the art of being okay
I have mastered the craft
Of covering my troubles
I use all sorts of fancy facades
Acrylic, oil, watercolor
You name it.

I can paint over nearly anything

You will never know
How late I was up last night
Or why.

My eyes flicker
Like candlelight
But you couldn’t see
You couldn’t possibly see
I’m too good
For that.

I can dance, too
Waltzing away my sorrows
Carefully tip toe-ing the
Pas-de-I-am-fine
I get a standing ovation every time

I’m very talented, you see.

But my all time favorite
Is my disappearing act
I’m still perfecting it
Right now
But one of these days
I’ll show you
How I
Slip
Slip
Slip
Away

Right through your fingers.

— The End —