Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
elizabeth Nov 2014
these past few days; weeks
have been filled with nothing but little talks:
talks about the future, where we're going to be,
how we're going to be, who we're going to be.
everyone says that my future is bright but all i see is
a black hole. people say their future is bleak
but all i see are stars in the night sky, defying
olbers' paradox.
elizabeth Nov 2014
you and i lost ourselves somewhere along the way.
through the fire, the flames and
the winding tumultuous roads that led us
to a future we once believed was possible,
now the roads are winding down.
but maybe we are tributaries in a river;
holding on to the belief that one day,
you and i will converge once again
in a confluence downstream, where we will
flow to the sea, into the end of time.
i'll see you on the other side,
i'll see you where our rivers meet,
and i'll see you in the sunset
and maybe you will ask me why the sun
changes colour in different times of the day
once again.
elizabeth Oct 2014
i am a wave that never reaches the shore,
for i break too soon before the land.
but i've always liked the look of sand:
golden, the colour of dreams, where shells that
hide secrets in them lie; secrets i would like to know.
sometimes they whisper in my ear,
but i never quite get to hear them as they are
swept away faster than they can say goodbye.
maybe one day i'll get there, and i will listen to the
stories they tell. to know how it feels to have reached
the shore, basking in the goldenness of sand, the sun.
but i am not like them.
maybe i will never know.
elizabeth Oct 2014
just a few weeks ago the future was to me a
faceless mass of mist, reality seemed to be shrouded, clouded -
the uncertainty; i can't say i like it
(i am forever straddling the line between ignorance and truth)
but i must say it provides a sense of comfort; a sense of peace.
it's the knowing that anything can happen, possibility -
truly, ignorance is bliss - it's like a pillow upon which you rest your
unknowing head; a blanket which shields you from reality.
but in it's own familiar way, reality breeds security.
the irony! to be secure yet so fearful,
to crave the freedom of choice yet to wish for predetermination,
a twisted security in infinite obscurity.
elizabeth Oct 2014
ever so often, so occasionally
i find myself slipping comfortably
back into my little retreat, a shell
in which i have come to call home.
i call out to you to come and join me,
you don’t listen. i am screaming, but you
can’t hear me. it is as if i am a hollow vessel
and an empty head. i am always wishing that
i could be more than what i am but this is all
that i can give. and so i retreat for i would rather
give nothing at all than to give something that is
destined to fail, because why shoot for the stars when you know you are simply going to fall back to earth?
elizabeth Sep 2014
the grass is always greener on the other side -
or so they say. but when you’ve been to the other side,
and you’ve felt what it’s like to be there,
you can’t help but wish you were from the other side.
i’ve forgotten the days i used to feel like i had
people who didn’t hold a knife to the small of my back
all the time, i’ve almost forgotten the last time i was truly happy.
sometimes, though, i wish i’d forget - maybe it would be easier
not to know, maybe it would be easier to be content with
todays. but today is today, and i am trapped
(or so it feels), and will continue to be for a month and a day.
elizabeth Aug 2014
maybe it was the best mistake of your life,
maybe it wasn't even a mistake at all.
whatever it is, i hope you felt it was worth it,
for the ache in my stomach still gnaws at me from
time to time, and the holes in my heart have
yet to be stitched up completely.

for what it was worth, i thought we could've been
spectacular if only we had (you had) the bravery to
try.
Next page