Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
  Apr 2022 Maeiby
pôr do sol
Don't speak harshly,
Your words will form swords in me

Touch my cheek; speak gently,
And they will form worlds in me
Broke my wings
So I couldn’t


So I stole his soul
So he couldn’t

  Oct 2018 Maeiby
Emily Jennie
He tastes like winter and smells like home
Maeiby Oct 2018
A year goes round again,
The winters are ringing the bell,
It reminds me of you, and you.
The warmth you hold in you,
And my only faith.
Winters are harsh here,
More harsh it is in my cold heart,
Frozen is my soul,
Trapped in time.
I wonder, if you ever could, for once,
Trap me in you,
Let me breath in you.
Every evening brings reminiscence of our tales,
Yet, it ends in me and not reach you.
I know, the sun shines bright there,
In my home, way back there,
I wish I would have sat facing it,
And not like, I always turned my back towards it .
Today I know, how sacred it was,
To not let my heart freeze, so often.
I know the mornings would still have mist with it,
And the grasses would be wet,
They always has the pleasure to tickle your feet.
Here wet it is, dew drops,
That fall from my eyes.
I know, he still stands near the swing,
And doesn't find me,
He looks for our laughter, I know.
Your voice, the spell,
That I always woke up for.
Today, you don't wake me up,
To collect the fallen night jasmines.
Fallen here it is, my fragile life.
Don't try to collect it dear,
Not everything can be recollected,
And can be placed back at place.
  Oct 2018 Maeiby
The poet lives two lives.
One on the outside,
And one in their mind.

When you look in their eyes
You could see an abyss.

If you looked long enough
You could sink into it.

But most people don’t see it.

Take the time to read the words, though,
And you would know for sure.

The poet lives in two different worlds.
A little escape from the madness.
Or maybe, into.
Next page