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dc Dec 2018
I think in poetry,
my thoughts convey rhyme.

I imagine in pictures,
just passing time.

My dreams carry meaning,
a slightly dull chime.

All these things in my head;
I'd be better off dead.
dc Dec 2018
I miss your skin
but I’m terrified of your touch

I miss your love
but I won’t forget your anger

I miss your voice
but I can’t stand your screams
dc Dec 2018
delicate flowers
like a fragile heart
easy to tear
soft to the touch

blossoming under the warm
the rays of tender care

but quick to wilt and crumple

under a stormy sky,
the flower hides
afraid of the tears,
the rain

but all that it needs
is the thing many perceive

is it really love?
dc May 2018
Lost and forgotten are the whispers and the promises
The start was floating, drifting around
Surrounded by a sea of mystery, of pain, of sadness
In the present I’m stranded
Standing on an island of betrayal
The waves are the disappointment lapping at my toes and flooding my senses
Nowhere to be free, nowhere to escape

Feelings are like chains bound to the ground
The ground the expectations, the plans, and the broken dreams
The chains the haunting memories, the nightmares, and the many missing hopes

Everyday it’s harder to breathe,
harder to rise,
harder to strive for the old carefree self that I once knew
Suffocated by his face, his words, his strong hold on everything I thought to be mine

Consumed by a feeling so many desire
A feeling that rips and tears and mercilessly destroys

There’s no control when there’s pain inside you
There’s no control when the images slip by you
There’s no control when the warnings breeze past you

How can one thing, one moment in time
Break you, shake you, leave you stumbling around the broken world
Everything’s different;
nothing’s the same
When your heart is torn and ripped away

Piece by piece—
Nothing more than whispers and promises

— The End —