Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
There's a sweet spot
between the crazy passion of a newly begun fire
and the embers of a fire which someone has tried to extinguish.
During that nice slow burn there is bliss to be found.
There is beauty and warmth.
As long as you keep feeding it and respecting it, it won't go away.
You can keep that fire nice and controlled
warm for you for a lifetime.
Or you can douse it with cold water, hope it goes out,
try to pretend you never had a fire to begin with;
convince yourself that you were going to get burned if you kept enjoying its warmth.
Loneliness can only be washed away by my thoughts, but, counting seconds until I drown, I no longer have the time to save myself.
~~ But maybe today will be better. ~~
I catch your scent in my covers and sheets as I roll over sleepily
I inhale it deeply
Savoring the familiar smell
Comfort, arms, forehead kisses
A solid chest covered in dark, soft hair
The sensation of your bare shoulder on my lips
The soft skin of your neck
The rasp of your beard on my cheek
The solidness of your strength curled around me
I comfort myself with the knowledge that this isn't permanent.
I exhale and smile, wrapping myself in the blankets before drifting back to sleep.
Maybe the darkness will bring us together
through many a tear-dissolved dream,
so maybe the darkness will bring me to you;
through the film that clouds all I see.
Maybe the darkness will piece me together
into something neither could see,
and maybe the darkness can bring me to you -
so we can finally be.
~~ Nothing but pain for miles, yet we keep this up - in hope of finding happiness at some point. ~~
Quiet little voices
In the back of my mind.
Demons,
Only heard by me.

Whispers,
        "You're worthless".
Even softer,
          "Just die already".

Why can't I shut
Them out?
I found this while going through some old stuff.
Shuffling along with wrinkles to match the leaves
Both the leaves and the feet were dry and crispy.
Veins, broken down a long time ago now, she knew
the blood wavy like the curls in her hair, thin and wispy.

Her breath was cold, she was icy, no jacket to keep her warm
Her mind had gone together with her dreams
Goodness where they have gone - she knew
she stopped taking her pills, lotions and her creams.

She lived in her own sweet little world, her safe world
just eating, drinking and sleeping when she could.
Whether it be last weeks crust of the bread, she knew
Most of her intake was either mouldy or covered in blood.

She coughed, her icy breath just about holding out in her
Her lungs filling and collapsing with the damp morning air.
She had no idea where she was going she wished she knew
Her family had washed their hands of her, she had no care.

In this day and age, this should be not so, there are many like her
The elderly, the forgotten elderly, they have seen so many things
Are wise and yet know so very little, but she knew
She knew one thing,  loneliness is killing her. It's the misery it brings.
Next page