Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
If you had been a musician, it would be impossible for me to tear my heart away from yours However you still managed to play my heart strings, You innocent fingers unintentionally plucking, prodding, pulling my heart in so that it could never be separated again They say that heartbreak is when a part of your heart is broken, however I think that when people are in love, the heart melds completely with that of the other person. I am him and he is me. When we lose them, our hearts are torn apart leaving them raw, gasping for the other half Pumping Pumping harder and faster Pumping Like my brain when I can't sleep pouring out the memories of you Pumping like a faucet running clear and pure then becoming ***** so no one will drink it's filthy waters Pumping Like the fiery engine on a train heaving burning embers, whistling, whisking it's passengers far away from home Pumping Like the thick blood throbbing through my thin veins, every time I think of those eyes Pumping Like the ghost of the beat in your chest next to my ear drums beating, beating as I fall asleep My blood is pumping out of my body with no second heart to hold it, my love pumping out of me, wasted and forgotten Pumping from an infinite pool of love for you that will continue rushing      If only, you would care to accept it     If only you could be mine and I could be yours and we would hold each other under the stars and see their lights in our eyes, the universe above, around, and in us, filling our entire beings     If only you would hold me. Your lips on mine my hands in your hair your hands on my waist forever entwining like two vines Growing The longer they grow, the more entangled they become, the harder it is to tell where one starts and one begins I have forgotten where I end and you begin. But you are gone, your vines have slithered through my soul, disappearing leaving empty tunnels creating crevices until one day it will finally collapse But for now, your invisible vines remain, and I convince myself I am whole
0
Jan 12, 2014
Jan 12, 2014 at 11:45 PM UTC
Invisible vines
If you had been a musician, it would be impossible for me to tear my heart away from yours However you still managed to play my heart strings, You innocent fingers unintentionally plucking, prodding, pulling my heart in so that it could never be separated again They say that heartbreak is when a part of your heart is broken, however I think that when people are in love, the heart melds completely with that of the other person. I am him and he is me. When we lose them, our hearts are torn apart leaving them raw, gasping for the other half Pumping Pumping harder and faster Pumping Like my brain when I can't sleep pouring out the memories of you Pumping like a faucet running clear and pure then becoming ***** so no one will drink it's filthy waters Pumping Like the fiery engine on a train heaving burning embers, whistling, whisking it's passengers far away from home Pumping Like the thick blood throbbing through my thin veins, every time I think of those eyes Pumping Like the ghost of the beat in your chest next to my ear drums beating, beating as I fall asleep My blood is pumping out of my body with no second heart to hold it, my love pumping out of me, wasted and forgotten Pumping from an infinite pool of love for you that will continue rushing      If only, you would care to accept it     If only you could be mine and I could be yours and we would hold each other under the stars and see their lights in our eyes, the universe above, around, and in us, filling our entire beings     If only you would hold me. Your lips on mine my hands in your hair your hands on my waist forever entwining like two vines Growing The longer they grow, the more entangled they become, the harder it is to tell where one starts and one begins I have forgotten where I end and you begin. But you are gone, your vines have slithered through my soul, disappearing leaving empty tunnels creating crevices until one day it will finally collapse But for now, your invisible vines remain, and I convince myself I am whole
January 12, 2014
TheTransientPoet
Written by
Jan 12, 2014
Jan 12, 2014 at 11:45 PM UTC
Request permission to use this poem