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Swastik Feb 2018
Like the stars glanced,
How far the wind blew.
Wherever I went,
I found there you.

Miles were you away,
But I found you so nigh.
Your twinkling I could see,
Though my flow not so high.

Icebergs of the sky,
They made you so far.
But I rained them down,
And reached you, o star.

Dropped then the sun,
Flew birds with their songs.
Our faces glimpsed with them,
I hoped it a little long.

The tones of those birds,
May with time, fade.
But not that song,
And love that they made.

May we live in heaven,
Or in world of desire.
Wherever we breathe,
We together respire.

You would glaze,
And I won't be seen.
But whenever you twinkled,
There I had been.
Renae Jan 2018
What does it take
To break free
To stitch up a wound so deep
What does it take
To forget
To let go and be free
What does it take
To get over you & me
Scarlet Rose Mar 2017
Wherever you are
That is where I belong.

That's why when I miss you
I say I am homesick.
Home is where the heart is
Redshift Dec 2016

heartsick because i want those brown eyes
only ever to look at me
that huge smile
only ever to be mine
i want your lips and your arms and your chest
with me
around me
laughing and holding and exclaiming.

you make me
in the most thrilling
tension-inducing manner

those other boys?


you have come to me,
from out of a dream,
like an angel of light,
with eyes so vast, deep,
bluer than dark heavens,
piercing the gravest clouds,
it has been so shutting long
my raven haired lord, my love,
i have grieved each unmoved day
to blistering, dull absence, salted
rains unshakeable, ghostly lone moss
of stones who wait in the sectioned
yards I trod, seen each sun turn black,
fading and the moon sings so very loud
in the sharp silence you have wrought,
when you tossed me here, frozen
in a hothouse, pine room, boxed,
where I write this poem, to pray
and feel you in the mercy flesh
immaterial, manifest of dream
an angel of light, all mist, halo
behind you, blinding me bare,
as I stare at this blank page.
Stella Cleere Nov 2015
I cannot help but feel
that we are not meant to contain this
that we are but shallow vessels,
because it hurts me so to look at you.

It hurts to see you run both hands through your hair
to see those crooked bottom teeth
to be in the gaze of eyes that change colour on the hour.

A deep ache
that resides in place
I could not hope to reach
in order to remove any thoughts of you
and I do not think I would wish to.
Martha Jordan Nov 2014
Sometimes I have to remind myself
That as close as I live to the mountain's majesty
I am not made of stone.

Despite the sands of time that collect
under my eyes, dragging down into a landslide
of bruises

Regardless of how cold and hard my hands feel
as they guide warm flesh towards
hidden despair

There is still blood in my veins, channeling
through a heart heavy as the earth they
poured over an early grave

My very bones erode with their own weight
The gravel in my wrists is agonizingly

You said I have such large, pretty eyes but I fear
these petrified jungles are threatening to drown me
and the monsoon provides no relief

I've an avalanche of grief that promises rest
My cradle or my grave
or both.
Emotionally exhausted.

— The End —