My eyelids are curtains
That cast a silhouette of my soul,
You're blind to what's behind them,
While they remain closed
They wait to open;

And the light will soon shine
Front and center stage,
An audience of people
To watch my life play;

It is a show, every single day

I pack the bags beneath my eyelids, off to sleep.

© Matthew Harlovic

My eyelids feel like stones,
skipping water,
but I don't know how to swim.

the night sky looks sickeningly beautiful to an insomniac.

I wonder
                    if my name
                    is tattooed
                    on the inside
                    of your                    eyelids

like your name
                    is tattooed
                    on the inside
                    of mine.

my smeared eyelids
from my black eyeliner,
are slowly closing and dropping,
all because i want to live in
a dream, in a world,
where you are mine,
and i am yours.

Poet: be gentle with yourself
never compare yourself to the coffee house across the street
the one that looks so lonely and wise with it’s brewing tales
and tea leaves
do not forget that you are a magician’s tarot cards, fate
holders and dream menders and plot twisters
poet: be gentle with yourself
you are a small wind hiding from the storm
but trust me your calm will come
remember that you are made of the stars and the universe
and that every atom inside of you is alive just like how
your words are
poet: be gentle with yourself
I know how it feels to hold back from writing
because you depreciate your own self worth
but trust me
the sun shines every day
just to catch a glimpse of you
and the moon cherishes your
fluttering eyelids the way I
cherish you.