The splendiferous rose
in picturesque shape and colour
aren't all its beauty treasure trove.
But how a rose is a rose
the flower by the thorns
next on the lane adjacent
to the utterly opposite heck
the very uneven grotesque!
this dry lump in my throat leaves a sickly uneven thought in me
each word i’ve ever swallowed down gathering up into a ball
and with one more word
Wondering if next time your heart skips two beats in a row. (translating into “don’t hold your breath for a 3rd one, they just cancelled that show)
Feeling the (ribcage) prisoner starting riots with potential fatalities
Seeing your time so far as “oh well I’ve had a good run, though;
not hall of fame worthy but still, got decades in tow”
Forgetting all about poetry.
Re-syncing your breathing.
Not missing anything.
My heart doesn’t love me enough
Despite the fact that I love you all.
just a feeling
I'm at a loss for words
It's like you took them from me
With the last glance you shot me,
And replaced them with the pain
I didn't expect from losing you.
This is my first breakdown
Four months after you walked away
I'm mourning you,
No words exchanged.
And unreturned feelings
I still love you
my dark side
I don’t fear
you are near
i can hear
i cannot fade
It is me
nothing to hide
my journal was dedicated to you
a proclamation of
how i adored your smile
how your touch set me on fire
how every minute spent together left me craving
more and more and more of you
describing how your eyes searched my soul
and left me wanting nothing more than a look at yours
filled every empty space
my ink bled your praises
line upon line quote the love you claimed
pages were filled with promises you made in a drunken state
my journal was a tribute to you
a celebration of you
and yours didn't even mention my name