Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
Dry sound of footsteps
Continue regularly
Close to this lamp.
I have a box of memories.
I have a box of dreams
I have a box of days gone by
it's broken at the seams
I have a box of past actions
I have a box of future thought
I made a separate box for love
because I thought, if it fought
against my hopes
if it fought against
all my memories
in a world of dreams,
and against past actions
it seems, I was wise
to take such action
against Love
and boxed it separate
from my distractions
 Sep 2014 Blackheat deShanti
ryn
Elephant in the room*, shoo the hell away!
Don't stick around; I wish you wouldn't stay

Don't mess with my head, inciting all I feel
I don't need you here, I want to heal

Stop blaring in my ears, your noxious lies
I'm sick to the stomach with my pathetic cries

Resist flapping your gigantic ears
They simply just fan the rage in my tears

Quit blocking my view with your sheer enormity
Get out of my thoughts so better I could see

Halt your incessant skin rubbing against my sores
Chafing me raw on top of my existing scores

Pull out your pointy tusks, they poke and jab
I'm bent in many places; I don't need more stabs

Take your infernal rear out of my face!
I'm self-destructing, counting up the days

Cease your retaliation, leave with no protest
Go find and sit yourself in someone else's nest

Drop your intentions to stomp me broken
I'm mangled enough; almost misshapen

End this mindless rampage...please
Let me iron myself straight, in peace...

Dear elephant, have you gone?
Thank you for the blight of my time, you've spawned
Kissing you tastes like nothing,
But aborted dreams and
Could have beens
I can't figure myself out
I hangout with thugs
I dress like a prep
I act like a blonde
I read books
I write poems
I dance like I'm in a hip hop  video
I listen to punk rock
I have different hobbies from my friends
I love them too death
They love me too death
Yet they don really know me
I feel complicated
When you kiss me
Do you taste
The words left dead on my lips
A mouthful of ghosts?

When you breathe me in
Do you fill your lungs
Then choke me down
Like a shot of whiskey?

When you touch me
Do you trace your fingers
Along the signature
Depression left on my arms?

When you hold me
Do you feel all the pieces
That won’t ever be put back together
Can you tell
That’s the way I was made?

I’m not broken
Because I was never whole
In the first place.
Next page