Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
After all this time
Of wanting to reach the skies
Yet not daring to,
A choice will have to be made.
It’s been far too long
And now the sun has already set.
I have to decide what sky I’ll be looking up at tomorrow.
I didn’t fall in love with you.
I was falling in love with myself again, and you supported me as I patched these broken things.
And you loved me, and reminded me that I am worthy. You were the first to treat me the way I was deserving.
But I held you at bay, consistently afraid. Even when I began to let you in I dug my heels in, resisting change.
Until I started breathing and began releasing. I stopped white knuckling, and resisting.
And, remember. I didn’t fall. I made the choice to risk it all.  
I leapt over the cliff, where my earth cracked and crumbled to bits by the last. And I chose to love you even after all of that.
I choose to love you every day, getting know you as the seasons change. And through it all I plan to stay.
Amy Oct 5
Your hand is powerful,
it can be used to harm
it can be used to caress.
Your mouth is powerful,
it can be used to uplift someone
it can crush someones soul.
You hold so much power
you're unaware of it.
People need to be aware of their power that can majorly impact others around them however, it seems like many forget or simply, because its easier to ignore it...
Simon Oct 4
Being in-between is never the lackluster of choice. I heed choices around like flyers wanting to join a cause. Imaginary circus of arts that never heed the claims of self choice. Choice disregards the claims of the imaginary circus. Disregarding all claims. Flyers flying around the in-between being free. Captured within there realm. Realm full of artistic surges! Extending past its bubble. Purging a focus deeming itself without worthy statements. Since actuality isn’t much of a focus for being in-between. A bubble surrounding even greater surfaces. One marked by choices. Marked by claims. Even marking self choice. Anti disregarding symptoms. Caring for what actually happens. An illusion in the light, that purges the shade holding two halves into one singular point. Points too judgy for claims, such as responsibility. No yes’s and no’s to be the counter balance. Imaginary circus becoming somewhat tainted. Heeds around choices without claims to care. Surging the realm full of arts. Nothing happens, until it chooses to act. I am in-between. And I am balance itself.
Growing up while fissuring my way through multiple crowds, heeding my choices between their claims.
PiLomus Oct 3
The mind started to dive in nothingness,
But doubt seeps in.
I felt frightened to make this journey,
A journey to decode
the questions of right,

Confused i walk to find the virtue of rightness,
Suddenly all around me,
Inferences started to fell victim to the darkness,
Mutely emerges this moral song,
Dancing on the ridge of right and wrong,

I fear the fall on the either side,
Not that i fear the pain,
But deep down a realization remain,
The fall will widen the perspective gap,
That it claim,

Considering the cause is in other,
There will not remain a way to uncover,
To uncover what is right or wrong,

Come forth the silence of dusk
To make an effect,
Still myriad dots left disconnect,

From this onus the mind became baffled,
And the poor soul quietly maffled,
How can it be fault of mine?
When my six can easily become your nine.
Maya Sep 23
How can this be love if I can live without you
If all I ever need is to know you’re safe

How can this be love if I can love another
And if a part of me is happy that you found her

But if this isn’t love why do haunt my dreams
And how come a part of me wishes I was her

I know you wouldn’t believe me

Or maybe you would, because you are me

And because no matters what
You will always be
Maya Sep 23
Lock me out, keep me safe in a sealed room, because every thing in me is craving for you and I can’t keep away on my own.

And my love would you tell me, have you made peace with my choice? What place do I hold in your heart, is there any room left for me anyway?

And baby tell me you’re happy, tell me you’ve completely forgotten me; it would give me strength to turn my back. But for you to tell me you Love me, that you carry my memories everywhere you go, well you’ve captured my thoughts; you’ve ripped me with the biggest dilemma between right and wrong.

What if you knew the truth about what I’ve wanted to tell you, that I love you too and a thousand times I do, more than ever.
What if you heard my weeping, heard me screaming out your name, would you have come and eased my troubles?

What good will it do to me to wonder everyday where I might have been in a parallel universe? Would I feel anything more than envy or regret?

If I only knew that I’d be the reason for your tears I would’ve tried harder, I’m sorry I guessed it all wrong, and forgive me if it’s too late.
I think I chose the path that lead me to the most dreadful present.

But I don’t really know any better, if anything my sorrow isn’t misplaced at all and is just the trail to the master plan of happiness.
But again who am I to judge, who am I to say that your remoteness is the wrong door that I’ve opened?

What’s left of me when my eyes have dried out and I still haven’t found a meaning while I still wonder what if?

What if you’re the right choice, and I’ve been wrong all the way, how far would I be from destiny?
Should I be grieving to the words I’ll never hear again or should I long for those coming?
Should I keep regretting every dance we’ve missed or learn to accept this miserable fate.

My every move is based on what I call my path, my every judgment and my every word. I’ve been trying to convince myself ever since you left that it’s the right thing for me, that you only took half of me, a part I could build again so easily. But it is time I face the truth, it is time I realise that you left, you took every piece of my heart with you, and I’m left out here on my own, me, my poor flesh and my empty soul.
Priya Gaikwad Sep 22
People make mistakes,
Every one of them,
Those who don't make mistakes,
Are the unfortunate ones,
Who doesn't even get a choice to make mistakes!
Some strange arrangement
of molecules would make me?
When I am nothing more
than a temporary ripple in time and space
Just flickering impulses that,
allow me to perceive my
Simply a mass of messy wires
swimming in a cocktail of chemicals
that accounts for all I feel?

So I say, can science explain:
The depths of a poets words,
the burning desire for artists to
explode color into stationary life,
or the soulful dance of a melody merging
with ones very being?

Yes, well then

What of the hidden glimmer of life
sparkling in each creation's eyes?
What of the realms of things unseen
and so often only felt
for the faintest moments?

Would recycled carbon on its own,
that has drifted for eons, somehow
rearrange to form life?
Would billions of chaotically
                                    colliding particles
embrace so harmoniously that
the overly comedic conditions for life
would so seamlessly come together
that at this very moment
you and I,
two beings of impossible odds
could have our paths combine
that I could write these words
that they could wander there way to you
Jewel Yuzon Sep 20
You could look for me in every corner of earth
and never find me.
Even if all the world were glass
and the water clear,
even if you and I were the only ones
in a white plane outside of space and time,
I could be in front of you, invisible,
just out of reach.
As you search with arms outstretched,
and I, about to smile my smug smile,
winner of my own game, I falter —
because things could have been so different.
Next page