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Zywa Jul 23
I'm homeless without

your hands, roaming through the fields --


There is snow coming.
Poem "Huset og hendene" ("House and hands", 1985, Rolf Jacobsen)

Collection "VacantVoid"
InkHarted May 2020
he thuds the loosely held floorboards
and smashes through the heavy pub door
he orders for a bottle instead of a glass
his coat drenched in filthy rain
his breathe smells like the rim of his bottle
and his shoes protruded a toe
wounds of glass from his last endeavors  
and needle marks not from the hospital
his crooked hands and messy hair puts anyone at a distance
once he was a gentlemen a father and a husband
once he had love and loved so many
once he had no need for needles
the bottle in his hand had only lukewarm milk
the bar tender was a stranger he'd never met
and his foot was only weary of legos misplaced
his shoes was stitched with a patch of a bunny
this man who was thrown
this man who was now a widower
and the smiles of her daughters trapped in his wallet
torn to shreds skinned to core
A blotted out smile on a blotted out photo
he now finds comfort in forgetfulness
to not remember the "how it used to be"
he has forgotten their graves and with it his promises
as their flowers wilt and perish
for a life a love an existence
is only meaningful if it has a memory
Caitlin May 2019
It won't hurt like this forever.
One day, you'll wake up,
and the pain won't take your breath away.
You won't fear the coming day
that you have to do alone
and before you did it together.
And you'll pass their picture in the hallway
or the shoes you still can't throw out
or the cinnamon candies that you never liked
but that you'd give anything to smell on his breath,
you'll pass and look at them fondly
and you'll swear you can feel their arms around you
just for a second.
And it won't hurt so much when the feeling passes.
People will stop looking at you with pity,
and you'll enjoy lunches with friends again.
You'll all laugh as if nothing ever happened.
But the empty chair beside you
will be a testament that you just can't shake
although you'd never try anyway.
The pain you have and harbor
is proof that you loved
and lost
but loved, all the same.
It will never stop hurting
but you'll embrace the pain.
For my cousin Kristy
Tori Jan 2018
I can hear you reaching for her
In all the things that you don't say
Not to me
Without words
I am screaming that I am right here
But you never seem to hear me

I understand, I understand
How many times do we understand
Before the pain actually stops?

You said you don't write
Because of a love lost
You don't have to be honest
For me to know you do
But you don't have to lie
When it's written across everything

It's not your fault
No, it's not your fault
I thought at times you were just vacant
But now I'm realizing
Your heart is just already occupied
Maybe It feels like I am on the outside
Because there wasn't much room
for me left over

You are the best thing
That ever happened to me
But while I dream about our future
You dream about the past
And waiting for someone
Doesn't ever guarantee
their heart would ever choose me

In my heart I want to marry you
And Yes, I know
that can't make someone love you any more
I want to have your children
I know you'll be a great dad
I know you'd fall in love with them
Yes, everyone knows
having a baby Can't make someone
fall any more in love with you
At least I can say It's for the right reasons
Even if dreaming is going to hurt me
Does love make me stupid?

I'm never angry at you
I understand, I understand
I just needed you to be honest
Tell me where do I stand?
You tell me that you love me
But it's so easy to lose my balance
When I dream about you
While you dream about her
I don't want you to want me
Because it's easier than being lonely
Tell me you wouldn't throw me to the wolves
if it meant you could to have her back?
Tell me you're not going to leave me
Because heaven sounds better
Tell me where do I stand
And what do I do with myself
What do I do?

When I said I felt like a ghost
I never meant that I wanted to be one
They say do wait,
but don't wait forever
How do I know when to stop
When I love you enough to spend my forever

How do you love a widower
Without breaking your own heart?
Ana Habib Jun 2015
It was like any other piece of jewellery
Made from a thin chain and built to string many memories
The very first token of our love
A flower, for the day we met
A porcelain cup, for the first cup of coffee you made me
An open book for the days, when we worked side by side at the local library
A red car, the same one you would give me rides on
A pair of silver bells, for the day we both said "I do"
A small cottage, like the house we built using only our two hands
A rattle to celebrate the birth of our first child
Roses to mark a 10 year anniversary

It didn't seem like much but meant a great deal
So how could you give it away?
Look for a new owner already?
Slap it on to another woman's wrist
Whose eyes are cold as her heart

— The End —