He was the sun -
orbiting around her lifeless body,
bringing growth and development
to her nimble structure she called
Keeping it short and bitter. Sometimes we just feel misunderstood and unnoticed.
The inescapable thought that forever meant till death.
The indefinite idea that two souls separated at form,
were awaiting to meet each other again and reattach in passing.
The aching realization slowly started to settle in.
Forever wasn't till death do us part.
Forever was the love that remained when two beings had been separated.
The idea and thought of the memory of love, lust and friendship were the only traits that would endure after passing.
But they move on.
Creating another forever that too will be cherished until death do they part.
A small forever was all that we needed,
to find a serene place where we felt like we belonged.
Sometimes I feel things that I think I shouldn't be feeling.
Left me drunk in a field
Dandelion wine for a year
And i packed up the dust
Of all that i owned
Handkerchief hung from a pole
I rolled out the day that the apples fell…"
- Gregory Alan Isakov
Currently listening to Dandelion Wine - Gregory Alan Isakov. Feel like the world needs a piece of his music and lyric.
I have been malnourished
of good people
and good poets.
Sometimes I have high expectations from low end humans.
The inevitable change of
circumstances leaves me
I have become undone.
Sometimes I feel like I'm whirling down my own rabbit hole.
Well my mind is a cage enclosed with fragments of my soul
drifting away into the infinite amount of nothingness
that flows through my bloodstream and
embodies my mind and soul.
Her freedom had yet to be discovered.
I'm going where the wind takes me.
The absent-minded speaks no fear.
For forgetting - is far more peaceful,
than a life of remembrance
I've been gone for so long, but I'm m trying to find myself again.
In sable darkness and deafening sounds of her bedroom silence,
she found herself aching
in deep cogitation.
The full moons brightness had peered in
through her window pane,
but with its light
encompassed her with defeat
Reality had settled in;
as she felt her body slowly submerge,
she was no longer her own saving grace.
She awoke in a place of death and morbidity,
But awoke in a state of contentment and comfortability.
Her agony remained; as the remembrance of today,
the ideas of what will come tomorrow,
and the hope of assurance to what she forebodes her future to be,
with the life she leads.
the words had finally escaped.
Sometimes I write at night.
There's something about the evenings that make me feel inspired.
Her mind became
of her own being,
pursuing the sadness
that followed her treachery.
My mind empowers the person I am.
Departed from a life I had once called love, I now tremble in fear for the visions ahead;
I am alone - in a world crowded with loneliness.
I have become vulnerable to the life I lead
Trapped in a state of solitude,
The area surrounding her became a vacant land.
She was magnificent.
Like a flower that wept petals.
A poem of acceptance.
Sometimes it’s just there
That feeling in your chest,
like a dead weight being dropped onto your lungs;
preventing you from gasping for that breath of fresh air.
That feeling of helplessness,
intercepts your ability to scream at the top of your lungs.
Sometimes it's just there.
I can’t explain what it feels like.
But if I had to try,
I would say it's agony.
but absolutely remarkable.
Sometimes I feel like I'm just going under.
I lived in a house,
but he was my home.
There's no place like home.
— The End —