Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
Somewhere far from now
we will bask under a glorious sun
your legs stretched out
beside my shapeless form,
your skin submerged in waves of light
beads of sweat evaporating
off your open palms
and the stories you describe, alive
with brilliant amber sunshine in your eyes.
Somewhere far from now, we will be
clouds, lazing amidst mountainous trees
floating, floating above our rocky extremes
past shores of white sand, where we meet
Till then, I wait, aching patiently
I, the silent hill and you
the deep blue sea.
Her hair shifts lightly, breathing in the wind
A million insecurities hiding behind my gaze
A slender hand closes loosely over mine
Even as my eyes push her gently away.
And we float - two islands separated by a vigilant sea
That kisses our shores to keep us at bay
Lest we collide into despondent calamity
Lest we crumble like sandcastles beneath the waves.
A bottle and two glasses stand tall on the table
Against the backdrop of unfulfilled fairytales
Despite myself, a warm affection spreads through my chest
Past all the defences my heart carefully puts in place.

And as I listen to her laughter behind my fortressed walls
I wonder if I'm falling for her
Or if it's just the alcohol.
A glowing warmth
lights up the front yard
and slivers
of sunshine
touch gently upon
your brown eyes.

A butterfly blazes yellow
and in the breeze,
tall, old trees sway
together, ever so gently.

A sultry kiss
blown across a lazy heaven
brushes tenderly against
your blushing cheek,
and a summer sun
burns through the mundane
as the murmurs of the universe
reverbate far within your brain.

That's when you surmise
maybe its not just plants
that photosynthesize.
If I'm the last white cloud at sunset
You're the morning hue of the sky (orange-red).
If I'm the concentrated chaos in my eyes
You're the mirthful flash of your pearly whites.
If you're the cool blue pool in summertime
I'm the orange orange (which doesn't even rhyme).
We're poles apart, you and I
But once in a while we see eye to eye
And the space in which our gaze meets
Is as close as I'll be to infinity.
"I shall write a poem today", says my mind
Though I know, ultimately no verse will be designed
And many a day has gone astray
In wait of a single, inspired rhyme.

"I shall write a story today", claims my brain
Even as I watch my thoughts miss their train
And a screen stark white mocks my plight
While the cursor blinks expectantly in vain.

"Maybe I should take a walk", I surmise
And far above me, in the skies
A troubled bird drops a ****
And inspiration splats between my eyes.
hope this makes you smile :P
MOMMY DEAREST*
sadly,
you killed everyone in your head
including the loving person i knew,
growing up with a best friend
that ended up being my mother,
and the past twelve years i watched
as you died and the heartbreak
you caused all who loved you
and by denying the help they gave you
by denying the help you needed
to accept reality the way *we
have to,
and so as you've killed us all
and isolated yourself to the point
that i'd had to write your eulogy,
for you couldn't accept your life's detachment
from everyone, ties you severed yourself,
and that me being the only one left
left me with no choice
but to bury you six feet deeper
than the demons i created on my own
because I can't take care of yours too
in the fifth circle of hell
after I've escaped purgatory senses
and discovered my freedom's as a man.
I hope they can forgive you and you can get your wings.
I'll cry harder this year watching It's A Wonderful Life alone when that bell rings.
There are stories in your eyes.

I never told you how
sometimes I fell asleep
with the thought that you
were perhaps the moon-

always disappearing
with the dawn.
I would awake with
nothing
but the shape of you
on my bed and the
gloom of you on
my skin.
When I asked you to fix me,
You told me I wasn't broken.
But, let this soak in.
I just wanted to know,
If i was still a pretty enough picture to be worth, agonizing over a puzzle.
Even when it's a struggle.
And you have to nuzzle each piece into place,
Kissing the pieces bent out of shape,
Searching for pieces gone missing,
But you can't make a raisin back into a grape.
Yes, I Remember your middle name
And who says we can't celebrate failure?
Don't be sad, we tried, we tried.
When you write your story in the sand it washes away with the tide.
It isn't our fault.
We may have cut ourselves open, But we didn't ask for the salt in our
wounds
Can I still say "we"?
I guess you're kind of done with me.
I don't blame you, Puzzles are frustrating.
they're a tease.
Please, tell me I haven't lost the most important piece.
Tell me I haven't lost
you.

© copyrighted Nicole Ann Osborn
 Oct 2014 Adithya Gowda
svdgrl
I'd forget things,
but they're much worse to discover again.
There are many bad memories that seem unforgettable. Sometimes you really wish that you could just forget them and move on. There's a reason why you remember them. I'd rather have a memory of something bad than risk of feeling the initial pain of it again by unknowingly bumping in to it.
Next page