Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
Michael Mar 2018
Dear, Elsie.
You left me with a curse.
I understand you had to leave,
we had no time to converse.

I've tried so hard
to doubtlessly believe
That there's a heaven above me
And a hell at my feet.

I've inhaled the smoke,
I've drank the fire.
I've done everything I can
to take me higher.

Mother, I'm not sure
That I'm complete.
I'm convinced that you can see.
With buried eyes, the ghosts in me.
Imperfect, but real.
Michael Mar 2018
Hollow and bitter, scooped of your sweetness. Like fruit once ripe, now rotten and sour.
Verse of the day V
Michael Mar 2018
Hey, you. Stop.
I know what you're seeking.
You look for a verse,
or stanza worth reading.

Look no further, peer inside.
Let me tell you how many times I've lied.
No? What? That won't do?
Don't tell me you're still not satisfied.

Oh, well. If that's the case.
Here's a few memories I'd gladly erase.
What's that you say? You've heard it before?
Well, what do you want? I have nothing more!

Do you want a pill that's hard to swallow?
An explanation as to why I'm hollow?
Do you need me to tell you how to feel?
Or are you simply craving something real?

Will you remember me when you're done reading?
Or are these words seen as fleeting?
Would it be different if there were a crowd,
While I stood onstage speaking out loud?

To be honest, it doesn't matter.
It's not my goal to convince or flatter.
This is my place, as it always has been.
So, close your eyes and listen to my pen.
Michael Mar 2018
I enjoy the silence with you; our spirits converse while our minds are at rest.
Verse of the day IV
Michael Mar 2018
Nothing compliments a hasty decision like a swift change of address.
Verse of the day III
Michael Mar 2018
I apologize for feeling entitled to love, but bare in mind I paid triple the price.
Verse of the day II.
Michael Mar 2018
=
I am more than the imperfections of my flesh.
More than an unorganized stack of papers riddled with typos.
More than a DVR for tragedy.
More than a play button for anxiety.

I am more the sum of all my parts.
More than the equations of my mind.
More than clicks on a keyboard.
More than words on a screen.

I am less than you.
Less than the seconds that you waste.
Less than the words that you are pantomiming.
Less than the poems that you've read.

But we are equals behind our eyes.
Next page