I’m the one wearing the
Rusted gold ring,
Hypnotized by my hard cold
Tears that sting
That rolls down to my open wound
That will never close because
Of the stress I bring.

-Marci H.

I fell in love with the pain of missing you

            and the torture of your smile

embedded inside of my thoughts


Copy Right 2020
©PoeticPat

Am I drowning? The void of my soul fills
with water as I dive deeper in order
to escape this calm catastrophe
called "living".

Where do I go next? The city lights I
see through the murky haze, hallucinating
in my final breaths. Seeing the stars of
Atlantis, the long lost beauty.
Seeing the scars of myself, the long lost
calamity.

Was I ever beautiful, or did I
become so skilled in the art of pretending,
my art of hiding, that even the best
critics couldn't find me behind these canvas
walls?

Mermaids bearing blades pierce my canvas heart,
its surface painted by countless sorrows.
Blood swirling around me, closing my eyes
as I die in a painting - the girl who
sank her own city.

Her laugh was golden, yet hollow.
The colour dulling over time, without the sun to help it shine.
Her eyes were silver, when they gleamed. Oh God, how pretty her eyes could have been.

Her heart was black; the most beautiful, nourishing shade of black I had ever had the blessing of seeing.
Her heart was painted black, layer upon layer of cruel intentions that only I could see through.
It wasn't her fault, don't blame her for it. Don't hate her for it.
Don't ever tell me that I couldn't love her for it.

Her wings were built on rainbows and stretched further than I ever would have thought they could.
She could only have hoped to fly one day, because rainbow wings couldn't carry the weight of the world;
but she let go of that weight, and can you honestly tell me that you wouldn't have done the same?

The days are pink now.
The layers of black that once enveloped her poor, weathered heart are fading.
Fading so quickly, and still you try and tell me that it wasn't worth it.

I'm glad she learned to fly, and I've never been more proud of a person.
I know it's not fair of me to say this,
not about the strongest person I have ever met,
and don't get me wrong, I really am glad that she learned to fly,
but sometimes I wish that I could have learned to fly too.

~

*Even the
   tiniest show
  of affection
    from her
   is always
      the biggest
     part of
        my day

I can do this
I can do this
I can do this
           I thought I could do this
I can do this
I can do this
I can do this
           I thought I could be strong enough
I can do this
I can do this
I can do this
          I thought I could forget you
I can do this
I can do this
I can do this 
          I thought I could forget your voice
I can do this
I can do this
I can do this
          I thought I could forget your touch
I can do this
I can do this
I can do this
          I thought I could forget our love
I can do this
I can do this
I can do this
          I was wrong
I can do this
I can do this
*I can't do it any more.....

Poetry is the oil which burns my lamp
Poetry is the moisture which keeps my spirit damp
Poetry is the elixir which refines my soul
Poetry is my lover...
...she completes me...she makes me whole
Poetry for me isn't merely a form of expression
It's what helps me get through the day..helps me overcome depression
Sometimes i find it tough to get any inspiration
Although there's never any lack of motivation
I write when i'm angry
I write when i'm lazy
I write when i'm sad
I write when i'm glad

In the beginning i stutter and stumble
Then the words start to flow
At first..real slow
And then they just put on a show

If i were to define poetry i'd say this...
...poetry is the combination of the speech of the heart and the thoughts of the mind
...it is the result of the darkness in your head being processed and turned into something beautiful

Sometimes i think my poetries know me better than i know myself!