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Malia Mar 14
Remember the beauty
Of silence.

It’s not the words—
Not the melody.
It’s the spaces
In between.

Let it break
Every now and then.
When the chamber is empty
Don’t scream at the walls.

It
Will
Only
Echo
Back.
All,, everything stretches, even paradise, love affairs,
the poetic intervals lengthen-but but not the interstices,
they do not require filling but the occasional hug, hair~
tousling, the unexpected hand holding to refresh the bonds
that sag with ages, worn to forlorn, by so much to remember…

I promise myself to keep this short, for the spaces themselves,
sag longer, wider, and need not words overbearing, but the
occasional tightening of the screws of connection, the markers
of a precise precious pulling that gravity may wear but never
ever break…

olp
Savio Fonseca Sep 2023
Our Lives are not always Pretty,
rarely it's coated in Colours of Gold.
A few bask in Rays of Sunshine.
While others, shiver in the bitter Cold.
At times, Life pictures joyful Faces
and at times, it has a empty Past.
Someone One Day, will fill your Spaces.
But see to it, your memories Last.
Tears like Leaves, will fall to the Ground
and your Memories, will turn Cold.
It's Love, that makes Life worth Living.
See to it that, it's never Sold.
Heidi Werner Jan 2022
I have memories
Of lying down in the backyard
Of my childhood home
Dressed in a hug
Parka, snow bibs, and gloves a size too big
The world had grown completely silent
All my fears held back
By a curtain of snowflakes

Sometimes
when the world is too loud
And everything is a little too much
My mind will wander off
To a snowy neighborhood
At night
In a small town

Often times this mental space
holds only darkness
All my developmental flaws
Packed away in moving boxes
Thick black smoke seeps between the cracks
Of pristine cardboard and plastic
Being loaded onto a truck
A size too small

It’s funny
That house never felt like a home
But sometimes
When the world was wrapped
In a blanket of snow
I felt peace and warmth
Out in the cold
Written while discussing liminal space and safe haven. Where do you find moments of soul haven?
Ninah Jul 2020
save face and leave
hold your quiet
like a secret
before thunder

leave the wound
mark the trail of my passing
reminiscent —
that we do for love
that we do for vengeance

you forgot, my dear
to **** you aim
for the heart
. .  . . .
crevicesofmymind Jul 2020
~ I mould my feelings into words that I can read,
and even then I find that what I feel the most is in the spaces in between ~
Kristen Apr 2020
I don’t understand these days,
the poetry I speak,

Or value my inner author
enough to strive for literary peaks,

And yet, here I am
writing about my writing still-

Words won and lost
with the drop of my quill,

A ballpoint pen
to be more exact,

But who in my journal
is in need of such facts?
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