As it continues to grow darker,
My lungs continue to morph or dry out.

Air.
Is it a saviour or suffocation?

Some people may ask,
How do you recover from a broken heart?
Well honestly, I don't know..
Because my heart hasn't healed
from all the hurtful words, and crying every night
because i'll never be good enough.
My heart hasn't healed from seeing him with another girl.
But you know what? Boys are boys.
Broken hearts aren't that easy to recover from
but boys will always be just boys,
and they won't ever notice the things
that they do to you.

I never realized just how many moments we had
Till I drove around our little town without you.
There were ghosts of you on every street corner
And phantom kisses on my lips.
Your voice played in my head like our songs had.
I can't forget all the beautiful moments
In every desolate corner of this town.
Every word, kiss, and every single touch
Is burned, deeply, in my mind.
So I'll leave pieces of it behind,
On each street corner, with your ghosts.
It's easier that way, for us both.

I talk a big game
About How I am not stuck on you
Yet, most everyone knows I am.

I talk a big game
About how I am going to stand up to her,
Yet it's more like slight raising from chair and then being seated again.

I talk a big game
About how I will tell you all of the things that I still feel for you,
Yet my words and courage remain paralyzed.

I talk a big game
About how I am not going to call text or email you anymore,
Yet my resolve fails me again and again.

I talk a big game
About how I am going to be my own person,
Yet, who in my life does not have ownership over my deeds?

I talk a big game
About how I will be a more decisive person
But I'm pretty sure I'm not.

I talk a big game
I'm going to do this and I'm going to accomplish that,
However, I'm just the queen of to do lists.

I talk a big game
About what I would do differently if I could go back in time,
But those claims are easy to make because The Doctor reminds me that I cannot cross my own time line.

I talk a big game
About what I want,
Yet, from day to day I don't even know for sure what that is.

I talk a big game
About what I want to do with and to you
Yet, when your skin touches mine,
I seem to become immobilized by your touch.

I talk a big game
About how we belong together
Yet, I'm terrified to tell you.

I talk a big game
About how you really know me,
But do you?

I talk a big game
We are meant to be
But there's so much about you I don't know.

I talk a big game
About how this poem is not for you,
Yet it has your name all over it.


© Misty Bishop-Martiss

We all want success; doesn't mean everyone should have it; because not all of us can survive it.