mind fluttered heart triggered or was it the opposite? to not feel is constantly abandoning the real or was it overthinking? white sun yellow moon shun or was it the lamp in my room? exclamation mark question bark or was it me confused?! flames left turned in hurt backs flared then burnt or was it them that slammed the door? now a missing bone from an unsolved puzzle all alone
Hear the sound of a far gone chime. Hear it mixing with some romantic poem you read the night you couldn't sleep; the night you thought you'd take your own life, then gazed at the moon shining in some new way and went back to bed. Hear the sound of the body lying next to you. His tangled hair. Feel your nails creaking on the wall. Feel yourself crawling into some stranger's sheets, like a parasite, a disease. See your mother cutting the meat on your plate, watch her door shut in your face. See your lover cutting your flesh, then walking away from you.
What have you become? Have all of your pieces come together? Throw them in the air like confetti, let them fall on your head, watch them build up, late November leaves in a puddle of mud.
I grow old, I grow old. Do I? Puzzled.
Cradle me with lullabies Tear my heart down with goodbyes. I am young, I am old, swirling water on my tongue, crying speechless tears of pain, speaking languages in vain. Though we walked our roads this far we never figured who we are.
What was it about that moment that made him love you less? Was it that you needed him, and he was supposed to be the one needing you? Was it the use of it? That you didn’t share, simply asked of him? Was it the failure? Or was it just that before you were unmarred, unblemished, An unreality? And then all at once you were just like everyone else. What was it that made him love you less?
here i sit here i stay here i will cry til i slowly waste away if to breathe is to drown to drown is to sing a drug that can **** can heal a king here she sits here she stays here she will cry til she slowly wastes away if to crawl is to sink to sink is to fly a man that loves god can hate his own life here he sits here he stays here he will cry til he slowly wastes away
just a word ***** poem written whilst i was bored in class.