Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
Your body was a busted pen
with clear, white ink leaking on the bed sheets
and onto my fingertips.....
The fear of letting go
I know it's fear of the unknown
Seeing if I walk alone
Although you gone
In steps I move
I'm afraid I have to choose
Be be alone again I dread
No one there to hold the thread
So afraid I'll fall again
I'm falling now and it not yet dead
Added to the the endless sleep
Scared of what may lie beneath
I know it's fear that holds me back
There's no way out
And no way back
What happens when the curtain falls
No one to find no one to call
I'm so afraid to be alone
I'm so afraid to be alone
X
When my finger met the paper, in a brief love affair, it took my blood as a trophy.
Then the red droplets created a beautiful mess as they sank into the dead white wood.
It stung badly, and it continued to hurt as I went on a mission to find a bandage that
could keep the crimson art inside of me, instead of spilling it everywhere.
When I wiped the excess blood away I saw nothing, yet I was still in pain.
But what hurts the most right now is my heart, because just like I couldn’t
see the papercut, you can’t see my broken heart either, and it is bleeding heavily.
Because of you.
And I can’t seem to find a bandage big enough to heal the
hole you left in my dying heart.
I am so happy that my poem was selected as a daily. That is so unbelievable on so many levels. Thank you so very much to all of your comments, likes and reposts. It means the world to me! :)
a soft voice that can
sanitize a mind, and
that mirrors skin like linen,
hair flowing faster than
blood to her heart,
looking in her eyes
proves that cerulean skies
can walk on earth,
anxiety blurs the lines
of a perfectionist,
leaving reservations
in the minds of anyone
lucky enough to
grace tangibility and
her footsteps cohere,
with lips rarely touched
a godless man can feel them
in his fingertips when praying
to a god he doesn’t believe in.
      
                                       MJB
-
you'd be so nice

*

to come home to
I miss you
With waves that are too scared
To kiss the shore
On days where even the sun
Has second thoughts about waking up.

You were a Summer haze
And a winter's storm the night
Before Christmas.
You were the beat of every drum
And the harmony to every melody,
but I was always half a step behind.
I loved you
With hands that shook right before
The picture.
I could never capture the moment.
Now all that is left of you
Is a blur from when I was happiest.
Next page