Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Apr 2012
There is a tree in my room.
It sheds leaves
that look like everything I have ever lost.
I put them in bags and
take them outside to burn,
as if it would stop the leaves
from falling all together,
but I know they’ll be back.

You are the ghost of all the people
I have loved
and been loved by,
that feeling I get when I remember
what it felt like to be touched by someone
who meant it.

You are the fear
when I realize I destroy
most things I touch
and am unworthy of ever
learning to say your name.

You are a poem that my weary hands
have yet to learn how to write.
They tremble with so many words
wanting to bleed out.

You are the empty spot
in my bed
when there is so much room
that it aches.

You are a planet full of
beautiful things
I have never seen,
so many light years away
that I could not possibly
scale or comprehend the distance.

I am tired.
My heart can’t trace your shadow
for much longer.

You must be near?
Jeanette
Written by
Jeanette  C a l i f o r n i a
(C a l i f o r n i a)   
Please log in to view and add comments on poems