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 Aug 2014 ephemeral
unwritten
one of the first times we talked
there was a thunderstorm going on
at your end,
all the way on the other side of the world
(or so it seemed).

perhaps i should've taken it as a warning of sorts --
that i would become enthralled by you,
just as i am
by thunderstorms,
and that you, the storm itself,
would wreak beautiful havoc
upon all that i was
and change me forever.

i was oblivious:
unknowing of the fact that soon
i would be in the eye of the storm --
a ship being beaten down by your
catastrophic flashes of blinding lightning
and the roaring waves you would leave behind.

perhaps i should've taken it as a warning of sorts.
but i didn't.
i was blinded by the serenity
that so often comes before chaos.

the calm before the storm,
if you will.

but like i said,
i am enthralled by thunderstorms,
so maybe that is why,
even after the calm ended,
i still loved every second
of our twisted downpour
and didn't so much mind
the empty hull i'd become.

my darling --
you were the storm
and i was the ship
that slowly burned
with every strike of lightning.

(a.m.)
quickly positing this with horrible wifi hello. i also hate the ending of this poem but I'm too lazy to change it.
 Aug 2014 ephemeral
unwritten
ghost
 Aug 2014 ephemeral
unwritten
some people don't believe in ghosts,
but i am not one of those people,
because you are a ghost
in every sense of the word.

//

i am sorry
for breaking you,
and i know
that i can say "i'm sorry"
until my lungs run dry
and my heart slows to a stop,
and even then
it will not be enough.

how can you apologize
for tearing someone's heart apart,
and walking away
as the tattered strings litter the ground?

how can you apologize
for bringing someone up
out of the murky depths
only to, just as quickly, loosen your grip
and let them fall back under
once more?

how can you apologize
for carving your name into the core of someone's heart
with a knife,
then leaving,
with that aching carving being the only lingering trace?

how can i apologize
for what i've done?

//

some people don't believe in ghosts,
but i stabbed you in the heart
and left you to bleed out
as i walked away and turned a blind eye
to your sorrow.

some people don't believe in ghosts,
but i know i deserve this haunting.

(a.m.)
1 a.m. thoughts
i'm sorry
 Aug 2014 ephemeral
Francie Lynch
Before leaving,
Pen a poem,
Script a story,
Produce a pyramid,
Manage a milestone,
Fix a fence,
Pose for a picture,
Build a boat.
I'll remember you,
Not to worry.
You'd remember me too.
But images of walls
Brain splattered,
***** on your face,
Cinched belt, alone, or
With needle
Will certainly work too,
But for the wrong reasons.
That's why King Hamlet
Had to return and ask:
“Remember me.”
He was looking for
Understanding,
And we know how that
Ended.
 Aug 2014 ephemeral
A
stargazing
hot chocolate
music
christmas lights
autumn leaves
cuddling (in theory)
performing
long hugs
flowers
children in grocery stores begging for pop tarts
late night talks
the thought of you
the thought of us
seeing you from afar as I walk into school
Just you
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