Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
lilah-raethePoems
the last piece of tree before he leaves for the night. somewhere in a forest she falls asleep the only whisper in her ear the sound of her fears and the wind between her legs... calling them. they are calling them, home. somewhere, God paints a figure painting a figure, naked like the new dawn up on a podium is a new heart. it is small. he leaves and the crisp red of autumn brushes his holy ankles as he walks down the street . the cars seem weird there. but the leaves seem right. she is in the forest. somewhere, boots come together to tread on stage to break glass and announce: something has been made. he says he wants to hold it, but they both shy away. she is brave. the wrap around the page keeps her sane when the whispers turn to howling screams. she is in the forest of her dreams, yet still she scours for a way to leave.
0
Apr 3, 2014
Apr 3, 2014 at 8:24 AM UTC
~ Leaves ~
the last piece of tree before he leaves for the night. somewhere in a forest she falls asleep the only whisper in her ear the sound of her fears and the wind between her legs... calling them. they are calling them, home. somewhere, God paints a figure painting a figure, naked like the new dawn up on a podium is a new heart. it is small. he leaves and the crisp red of autumn brushes his holy ankles as he walks down the street . the cars seem weird there. but the leaves seem right. she is in the forest. somewhere, boots come together to tread on stage to break glass and announce: something has been made. he says he wants to hold it, but they both shy away. she is brave. the wrap around the page keeps her sane when the whispers turn to howling screams. she is in the forest of her dreams, yet still she scours for a way to leave.
(broke out the type writer last night.)
lilah-raethe
Written by
lilah-raethe
Apr 3, 2014
Apr 3, 2014 at 8:24 AM UTC
Request permission to use this poem