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Michaela Feb 2015
Walk, Walk with your bare feet
to places I've never heard.
Lately, I can't seem to feel
anything but words.

Stand, stand at the crossroads,
wonder where you will go.
Distance becoming more than space,
as I had come to know.

But you talk, talk with conviction
about everything but me.
And I counted for a year.
And I cursed the miles between.

Distance was my occupation.
I tried to measure it with a pen.
And so I did not notice the breach between us-
the ever present end.

The breach that separated
you
from
me,
that no amount of closeness would mend.
Sometimes being physically close does not mean the same thing emotionally.
Michaela Feb 2015
And while she lie awake pondering existence in itself;
she realised that it -
it and everything else,
would be always and unavoidably tied to disappointment.
The two are linked-
so closely to the point where they are almost homogeneous.
Because people were broken.
And because she was broken.
We let each other down.
Michaela Feb 2015
It is in the sun,
The rising and falling;
Both self and other,
On which we so depend.
It is all in the sun.
Sunshine is life.
Michaela Feb 2015
And I'll hope that the time space continuum gets smaller,
That the names on the map lose all meaning,
and the distance becomes just an obligation.

And you'll come to surpass
the person you left here with me.
For Wes
Michaela Jan 2015
Break break break
On the sand that still waits, O sea.
And I wish that time could erode
the past that unravels me.

O well for the barefoot boy that
passes the length of the shore.
O well for the fisher without a net
who forgot what the struggle was for.

And the weathered ship moves on
to the place where its cargo must rest.
But, O that I could disembark
or unload this unconquerable mess.

Break Break Break
At thy faithful cliffs, O sea.
But I fear that a day I can never repeat
will forever come back to me.
This is my own version of Break Break Break by Tennyson; my favourite poem.
Michaela Jan 2015
Because I don't live in a vacuum
there is a black hole inside of me.

And it devours words from outside-
pulls them from their mouths
and into the depths of me.

Every line beckons internal anarchy.
Every syllable punctuates my doubt.

I  
  am
        their                                       I
                 thoughts.                        am
                             ­                                     their
                      ­                                                     words.

And I would that within didn't come from without.
I wish that who I am didn't depend on other people.
Michaela Jan 2015
A lovely apparition
I saw in loneliness
You haunted me around,
and I did not resist.

Over time I grew less convinced
that you and I had ever touched,
but you haunted me around
and I expected too much.

I tried to trap you on a page,
to scream you into plain sight.
But you haunted me around,
and I could not face the night.

You're the ghost I can't get rid of-
That I'm hesitant to release.
But you haunted me around

                         And I still have not found peace.
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