In the midst of day
The strong winds blow
You not ready to say
Now the motion is slow
This is not your first
To say goodbye
May be its my test
****! Why am I so shy?
It's the love that clicks
For you know that
You ignore my flicks
But you ready to bet
Who would call first?
It's not me,....No!
I will take my rest
Door is open, you may go...

©sim

the beasts that claw and creep within
are often wearing human skin.

Grab a feather
                                            Open your soul.

Grab some paper
                                         Make it your own.

And a small feather
                                             Shall be a brush,

And a small paper
                                        Your poems' canvas.

Words do not echo.
Words do not cry.
Words do not,
Identify.

Scrambled and stirred,
Frozen and baked.
Pulled when needed,
Eaten to be fed.

Pieced together,
Black or white,
Laugh or fight,
Wrong or right.

A sound is bound by key,
A picture by color pigments,
Emotions chemically,
But words contain,
Everything,
And absolutely,
Nothing.

The same word
Can be
Completely
Different,
Depending who, what, how
When it was read
Or written.

What if every word,
Was positive in meaning?
Harmless,
Could not
Destroy feelings.

Words have no senses.
Words have no bounds.
No touch, sight, taste, or smell.
Words have no sound.

Words have no sound.
Unless read aloud.

If silence was ever to be described,
It would be a safe zone in a war.
The calm before the storm,
Or merely the anesthetics fueled in
Before you can start to feel the pain again.

Her silence was just different,
It shrieked in a tearing pain,
Also the numbs the body throughout.
Without voice; it's louder than anything you'll hear.
But you should be worried more when she breaks the silence; and breakout.

-HIY

My heart is pumping
So fast you can visually see my chest thumping
The only sound I hear is a heart beat
Lately I haven't been able to eat
Uncontrollable shaking
Rude awakenings
Uncomfortable thoughts
Distraughts
Staying up late caused by PTSD
I am trying to get better, can’t you see?
I try to fight the battles that go off in my head
Late at night, before I go to bed
I try to keep moving forward and never look back
Wait, I feel like I’m having a heart attack