Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Valerie Dec 2018
On this weird evening all i can think of is you and all the things that we've missed out on, it's like i have stopped it all for you and don't even know how to begin again. My mind is not at rest even when i tell myself how foolish i am to keep longing for you. In all this i still feel hope and i feel something more. You are ordinary but i see you extraordinary.
                     On The Night Where The Air Stands Still In Waiting; The Sky Is Bleak And Misses The Stars, Loneliness Becomes Inevitable. Even The Presence Of Humans Can't Shake Away The Persistent Feeling Of The Absence Of Someone So Important. Loud In The Ears Are Sounds But No Connection; The Mind Is Screaming Into An Endless Tunnel And Only Echoes Are It's Reply.
                    Even With The Thoughts And Visual Image, There's No Change In It's Stance, Yearning And Craving Seems Endless, Swirling In To An Unknown Destination With No Idea Of Moments Passing; It's One And Only One Need, It's Reached The Zenith, Now Restlessness Is Company. 
                     The Mind And The Heart Concurrently Sends The Same Message To The Brain, Asking For Solutions For It's Turmoil. In This Distance Of Affection, All And  Everything Around Seems Appalling.
                     It's strange how i still think about the possibilities, i only hope to myself that i am not mad or going mad. There times when i miss you like rain for expectant Farmers, then i go mad at you for little reasons and decide that enough is enough. Then i try with all of my will to neglect you but it's something i can't do, cause my heart reminds me of you and so does my prayers.
We can't sometimes control where our heart goes
Shannon Aug 2016
There is a funeral pyre
I built as I walk.
A parade of orange flames
down the street,
blue centers lapping like puppies
trying to get my attention.
And I let that ache burn
with the ashy residue
that lies thick on
all my clothes
and the tongue where
I kissed you.
I left the love, I left the lover
but, Oh! the embers wear me round my neck like a like an sailor's orange sky
Struck a match to patch the hole.
And everywhere I go I am the mourner and the deceased.
Outliving the everlasting,
wearing thin evermore.
Shannon Aug 2015
i worry in tenses.
past, present and future
to stave off the huntsman whose after my head.
dire regrets are no more of a reaper
than the incubus lying still under my bed.
it's not the long shadow that
quickens my heartbeat
it's who he belongs to frightens me so.
not what i acknowledge
that gives me cold blood chills
it's all of the lovers i'll have to forego.
Cerberus came once to settle my debtor
handing him payment, i'm awful contrite.
for now one can love me
and no one can mourn as i'm
burdened to love him in black hematite.

Sahn 08/10/15
Shannon Apr 2015
i watch his magic trick
in the morning by the sink
with the crunch of the blade
he goes from monster to man...
with the sleek silver rake
he goes from mine only
to the all the worlds.
and i am jealous of the world
my eyes watch him
as he clears the charming stubble
and tames the wild curls.
and i peek at his belly,
soft and pale
with sprouts of hair
like a man jungle.
and i watch him
with the cottoniest of cottons
ironed and pressed
shirt like a gift wrapped tight-
edges and clean lines.
i close my eyes and inhale
because next i will smell his smell.
and keep them closed
for him to lean over
and kiss me goodbye.
i don't want to hear the door close
but it does.
and i watch the hands as they
and i watch that **** door that let
him go
become the door that brings him back home.

Thank you as always for being such a wonderfully supportive group of amazingly talented artists that take the time to share in my work.
Shannon Apr 2015
It all spins
gravitational pull
and I-
astronaut distance
orbit it sadly.
My only regret-
out in the black nothing
is not feeling my back
against brick
one more time.
Push me against
the cold and cutting
and kiss me with your
hands by my head.
Ever so cleverly
holding the wall-
holding the world.
Holding out on me.
As I tumble,
astronaut girl
and look at the blue beneath my toes
my only regret is
not learning how fly that kite.
Learning how to ride currents
with colorful
So very stuck, was I,
on all of the moons
That I never took
to dragons with tails
or red and black scales
and days taken hostage
and grass that can lasso
and pull me in earthbound.
Now I am anchored to nothing and watch
as the blessed and foolish dance at weddings
and funerals
and I watch from above.
Astronaut, I am
my only regret is that
all of this time
I've spent farming the stars
I never did learn
to correctly love you.

Sahn 4.13.15
thank you for sharing in my work. i explore isolation and loneliness in this piece
Shannon Apr 2015
You will learn my rhythm
and lean in when I talk-
The smell of me like petrichor perfume
will linger on your shirt.
Feel of my lips like
satin ties
of the ballerinas shoes
will wind
around your mind
and tie across the gooseflesh
on your arms.
You will know I have come
before my hand
lifts to knock,
and your heart will quicken-
echo percussion against the chambers.
You will remember
the last wet place
we walked with one umbrella.
And when it rains
you will fill buckets with longing
to fit our slick bodies
underneath its black shelter
You will knot your tie
and straighten your collar
and your body will stiffen
because it remembers.
You will have a track mark
like the silver needle bullet
chasing through your veins-
that recalls us.
Like tongue recalls salt,
like  wound
recalls harm-
like child recalls
before being born-
like the prayer remembers
before being sung.
like the rock will recall that the ocean was there
and the cell will recall being painlessly split
and you will remember
with such vivid lust
and you will love in a timeless loop.
And I will love you over and under.
We will love till we're small again,
Love as time resets again
And then do it all once more,

Sahn 4.10.15
I think of this as the story of lovers being reincarnated again and again and getting to fall in love all over each life. Thank you for sharing in my work.
Shannon Apr 2015
What day was it, exactly
when you asked?
I'd never thought
not that far out:
I want to sit by the mountainside.
Hear the brook every morning-
gather up river stones
build up a path.
Drive an old chevy truck.
With radio made for blasting.
I want a moonroof and plenty
of stars in the sky.
I want to see faraway places.
Hear funny voices say funnier words.
I want to visit-then
I want to come home.

To you.

I want to cook like they do in NY
And garden
and pick pretty flowers.
To grow older
and watch
as my babies grow old.
I want to visit  pyramids.
Buy trinkets at Parisian stores.
I want to see Venice-
make my way  
thru watery streets.
But then
I want to come home.

To you.

To that mountain.
by that creekside.
Feed the squirrels and watch red robins.
Write under a tree.
I might want to go west-
Drive down highways fast
stay up in Vegas,
Wear sparkly dresses.
Drink pricey champagne
close to the bay. Any bay
will do.
I want to find light in the India bustle
and color in Ireland's green
and then,
I want to come home.
I want four corners and
I'd love seven wonders,
But still-
I'd want to come home.

To you.

thank you.
Shannon Apr 2015
I'm difficult and broken
-and not at all difficult and broken in that oh-im-so-difficult-and-broken-beautiful way that some women can be.
I'm just difficult and broken in all the ugly ways it manifests.

sahn 4/10/15
Thank you
Next page