Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
kahara-jonesPoems
Hey. I saw you cutting yourself in your eyes and shedding pain wet drops that stained your skin leaving red trails of salt marking you within as something else you had painted your skin a different shade I can’t cave I heard in your head crashing against the backs of your eyes making you tear up making people stare I wondered I wish I had wondered aloud You left. and did not come back, found comfort in someone else’s arms not that you knew mine were here, hoping, wanting -until feeling passion so intense it could be felt as pain- to brush away your humiliation, calm your hands from clenching it’s shovel, to fill the hole you’d dug, and smooth your knotted brow the heated knife of frustration, and hot-blooded fervor was legible in your eyes as legible as the tears, and the pain I would. If you had known If you had asked I silently whispered, pleading until my hands were cold and white in the December morning I’m here, I’m here, turn your head, I’ll give you what I can but I should have said my hopes aloud, exposed myself as more than the bystander, exposed myself as someone who wanted to be more in a life that was more important than you thought it was
0
Nov 30, 2012
Nov 30, 2012 at 9:43 AM UTC
Hey
Hey. I saw you cutting yourself in your eyes and shedding pain wet drops that stained your skin leaving red trails of salt marking you within as something else you had painted your skin a different shade I can’t cave I heard in your head crashing against the backs of your eyes making you tear up making people stare I wondered I wish I had wondered aloud You left. and did not come back, found comfort in someone else’s arms not that you knew mine were here, hoping, wanting -until feeling passion so intense it could be felt as pain- to brush away your humiliation, calm your hands from clenching it’s shovel, to fill the hole you’d dug, and smooth your knotted brow the heated knife of frustration, and hot-blooded fervor was legible in your eyes as legible as the tears, and the pain I would. If you had known If you had asked I silently whispered, pleading until my hands were cold and white in the December morning I’m here, I’m here, turn your head, I’ll give you what I can but I should have said my hopes aloud, exposed myself as more than the bystander, exposed myself as someone who wanted to be more in a life that was more important than you thought it was
kahara-jones
Written by
kahara-jones
American
Nov 30, 2012
Nov 30, 2012 at 9:43 AM UTC
Request permission to use this poem