Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
I've never been good at
Being touched.

Though the fingers
Of endless suitors
Have traced incomparable
Lines of affection,
They all stroke
The same wounds.

New hands feel like
Recycled lullabies,
Humming promises
Of a new melody,
Singing a remedy for
My impassivity.

Whether words fall
Passionate or
Fearful,
Endearment lines my lips
With an expiration
Long enough to convince me,
But short enough to leave me.

Reminding me:
The disintegration of
Indifference
Remains
My prerequisite
For destruction.

So before you
Touch me with
Promises of a new
Orchestration,
I'm already marking the
Days until you leave.

Because my skin
Is tired of
Intruders hidden
Behind momentary
Infatuation.

So keep your hands to yourself.
 Jul 2017 Emmennarr
LeBobbe
You and I jokingly started.
You said to me, "I love you,"
With a joke attached.
I replied back, "I love you too,"
With my heart attached.

I felt nothing as you held it.
Maybe because it slowly melted
By your undying rage of me.
I still ask why you loved me.
Only to throw me like a clay frisbee,
and shoot with a shotgun shell
Imbued by the bitterness of you.
Pieces of it are left and it felt like hell.

I antagonized you,
I despised you,
I loathed you,
But I never stopped loving you.
I never stopped caring for you.
I hate you for leaving me.
I hate you for teaching me how to love.
I hate you for not teaching me how to stop loving you.
Part 1
~~~=<♡>=~~~

when it dawns
and the sky is passing fair
in the peace in a time of silent prayer
in the breath of a
newborn child's sleep
there are mem'rys
we will always keep

when a mother first holds her child
in the strength of a mustang
running wild
in the hush of an ocean's
silent depths
there are feelings in us
that we'll ne'r forget

eagles fly
and soar on lofty wings
infants cry when their
time of life begins
seedlings grow
from the fall of gentle rains
these are things we know
but can we fully explain?

in the rise of a harvest moon
in the scent of a rose
in fullest bloom
in the grace of a
dancer's swirling form
then our senses make us
glad we're born

in the flames of the setting sun
in softness of night that's
just begun
in the lights of the pinpricked sky
there are times we pause
to think and ponder why?

breezes blow
and yet are never seen
there's a mind
that can only think a dream
can you touch the light
of falling stars
these are things we know
but can we prove they are?

in the roar of a breaking wave
we are kept from the
cradle to the grave
we may know
in our last and final hour
a loving and

ALMIGHTY POWER


soulsurvivor
4/21/2009


~~~=<♡>=~~~
a song

~~~=<♡>=~~~
 May 2017 Emmennarr
K G
Meraki
 May 2017 Emmennarr
K G
The basin drains her polluted blood as wine envelopes morose
Every minute is a memory, onset of her blanketed comatose
Vying in a fog of icons and myths, words always fail them
From every misread evil that is disposed of improperly
From every neighbor or friend eternally mute again
From every gilded pattern that leaves a cuff for the eyes
From every fetching barroom, where all such nadir lies
KG
red bathwater
momma's gone
never gave her daughter
that gift she bought her
doesn't make her a monster
she thought she was stronger
but she just couldn't take it any longer
this poem is only two lines
Next page