Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Sep 2014
I'm not sure I can hold the rope that keeps my head held high anymore. The scariest thing for me would be letting go, because who knows the hold it can have around my neck.. I have spent my days weeping over the things I cannot control and I raise my expectations too **** high because I thought, maybe you would give me fair treatment; or maybe at least attempt to bask in my presence instead of sulk in your own solitude. But I guess we all have our vices.
These hands are meant to hold and you have spent too many of your days taking yours and grasping them around my neck. I'm not too familiar with holding my tongue. Maybe these words I speak are foreign to you but they mean something to me..
Money doesn't mean a thing when it's only your time I long for the most. But my days are spent at your feet waiting for your command that it's okay to hold your hand, and I don't want to wait around for you anymore.
I am damaged, far too much beyond repair and this will always be me, giving so much more than I will ever receive in return, writing you all these love poems only to realize your time is spent stuck in your solitude and I will not become apart of it anymore. Confinement is not in my agenda and if you want me than you'll have to come get me, I'm tired of chasing you and walking around the eggshells you so conveniently build around yourself.
Maybe you don't realize that my heart hurts because you once tried for me and now these days we have together are numbered and I'm getting tired of counting. The watch is yours now, so mark the minutes and watch how quickly you lose me.
Amanda Stoddard
Written by
Amanda Stoddard  United States
(United States)   
234
   Alexis A
Please log in to view and add comments on poems