Do you hear the muttering?
Foul and desperate falsities fencing through the air?
Do you hear them cluttering, in fickle clamor over futures in despair?
Certainly you hear them fluttering?
In a fervent dichotomy facing disrepair.
All I hear is fomented stuttering, Sowing division, in deleterious affair.
Pages of burning emotion flutter through the wind
Flipping from one end of my journey and milestones to the other
Letting the sun kiss each page as it transfers
The ink is dry
But the blood, and tears I've graced these pages with are very much still running through the words planted in the same field.
My pen screamed and etched images of my future
As my brain burned with a passion magnified by a deep sickness
And as the gunshots of thought blare
My pen rams the pages
And then silence
The scribbling scratches of the quill quiets down
And the accelerated breathing turns soft and shakey
The Prophet ends his journal entry
With a slice of the thumb
A bit of blood smeared on his art to ensure his life stays with it
And a night of deep sobbing stalking closely behind.
in a moment of
in the dark
as a steady light
on my heart
in a moment of
in a room
Illusion, seeing only what we want to see, and not seeing what actually is ...
I've been warned
it can ****
" it's called love "
but I answered
" It might **** me one day,
but it's also my one and only
reason to live."
love is a venom and will **** you slowly
Wrapped by just her flesh and skin with nothing on, half-awake on her silky fabric bedsheet
She watched him walk slowly towards the door in his torn jeans and tight shirt
With a quiet gaze and a tender smile, he gently waved goodbye
In and out of her vision, his retreating figure shimmered
She must have trembled because he stopped
He smiled, walked back and passionately whispered while caressing her curves
“Please forgive me!
my hands for always wanting to touch you
my lips that are burning to kiss you
my arms that are dying to embrace you!”
Her guardian angels clapped in awe as he asked again for gentle kisses
Then they swam together in furious waves, merging into the vast glimmering ocean
They were beautiful whales dancing in their own song
Then they found calmness as they reached close to the seashore
As they began to drown themselves again in melodies of the ripple waves
She forgot and suddenly realized
Waking up in a middle of a poem, she was fooled by her own metaphor
Today, you came home to a package.
It was a box that I had taped up tight.
Inside you found your worn out high school hoodie.
When you unfolded it, nearly every picture of us fell out like confetti.
And at the bottom of the box, in a thick hemp cloth, you found a framed picture of you
looking miserably in the mirror, back at me.
I was behind you, smiling and deliriously happy.
The picture was in pristine condition.
I wrapped it the way my ancestors would cover a mirror
after a death in the house.
They did this to keep the spirits from passing to another realm.
I did it knowing we had ended that night and that you would forever be looking back for me.
You will be miserable and I will be deliriously happy.
I was feeling some kind of way about new beginnings and what to take with me. Thank you for reading!