The heart howls
against the gentle moonlight
with a passion that burns
and echoes through the night.
Saying every thought
with one unnerving sound.
Creating those skipped beats in your chest,
as if your heart has hit the ground.
How can you explain it?
The sensation of receiving a blow to the cheek.
Is it possible to describe the feeling that floods you
just as you are about to weep.
Words can be scattered
and used mightily with infinite array.
Oozing every emotion the heart can conjure,
spinning within you everyday.
We look for the people
who listen with the intent to hear.
Rarely do we find these companions
and when we do, we must hold them near.
In the end
when the day closes, as I lay in my bed.
All I have are those words
created by feeling everything with my heart
rather than my head.
Oct 19, 2016
Oct 19, 2016 at 11:45 PM UTC
The heart howls
against the gentle moonlight
with a passion that burns
and echoes through the night.
Saying every thought
with one unnerving sound.
Creating those skipped beats in your chest,
as if your heart has hit the ground.
How can you explain it?
The sensation of receiving a blow to the cheek.
Is it possible to describe the feeling that floods you
just as you are about to weep.
Words can be scattered
and used mightily with infinite array.
Oozing every emotion the heart can conjure,
spinning within you everyday.
We look for the people
who listen with the intent to hear.
Rarely do we find these companions
and when we do, we must hold them near.
In the end
when the day closes, as I lay in my bed.
All I have are those words
created by feeling everything with my heart
rather than my head.
