#bookshelf
DEAR PENPAL PEOPLE, stranger to me, could it be?
what kind of sin?
won't resemble your own self again?
placing your chest upon mine
not really the same spark now been drawn a line
the touch of a skeleton in hollow
literal meaning feels of the ribs in shallow
the tone of that fair skin wrapping the beat of your heart
what kind of distance rips a memory apart?
some a fear of the remembrance?
more like fear of forgetting the sequenced penance
change of pages isn't what I hate
more like the sense of loss it contains
the one a mind enters a loop of lies
& she sinks & she drowns & she dies
either leave me from myself
or take me to your bookshelf
-----ravenfeels
Apr 9, 2022
Apr 9, 2022 at 3:32 PM UTC
Reasons to stay alive:
a thousand splendid suns,
the land of decoration
beloved
fairy tales.
Dark places murmur
Girl, interrupted.
We are all completely beside ourselves
And still I rise.
Apr 5, 2021
Apr 5, 2021 at 7:04 AM UTC
A flower so close to bloom,
Conjuring love, courage, and wisdom
To know it is loved.
A flower hidden between the rocks,
Under a bridge,
Waiting to be discovered;
Waiting for someone willing to unwind a path,
Someone to trek through the ***** unseen pavement.
A flower,
Caged to the ground,
Lonely, but deserving.
It notices someone reaching down.
Someone with scratches, bruises,
Covered in dirt, leaves in their hair,
And a small path carved behind them.
Feb 15, 2019
Feb 15, 2019 at 12:56 PM UTC
The thief.
The challenger.
Pieces of you
Filter through my heart,
Like stars through glass.
The dreamer.
The wild.
Thoughts of you,
Run through my mind,
Like light through trees.
The extraordinary.
The remarkable.
Pieces of me,
Reserved for only you.
Feb 6, 2019
Feb 6, 2019 at 7:35 PM UTC
She explored worlds only known
To those who had patience and perseverance
A world without visuals yet gave sight
To those willing to create it
A world filled with diverse people
Who all shared the same voice
A world so loud in words
Without making a single noise
She had many worlds she could explore
Too many for her to decide
Each new world lined up on the shelf
Aligned with past adventures to remind
Dec 25, 2018
Dec 25, 2018 at 3:48 PM UTC
I am a bookshelf
filled with books
arranged by their hue
that hold my own stories and experiences
so why did you think
you could take the books that once belonged in her
and fit them in me
Mar 28, 2018
Mar 28, 2018 at 10:41 AM UTC
I look at the bookshelf
Standing in front of me
The many stories
That can be read
And make adventures
I wish I could just
Choose a book
And live in that world
No matter how perfect
Or horrible it is
At least
It would be better
Than mine
Jun 13, 2016
Jun 13, 2016 at 2:17 PM UTC
read consistently,
learn diligently,
and write profusely
so that beyond lifetimes
of persistent practice
produced from painful,
arthritis-stricken fingers
may you birth a humble book
in its eternal years,
as many mute manuscripts,
it shall collect continents of dust
until it finally bares relevance
due by your unfortunate
final, unheard breaths.
but near such justly demise,
you will rage and reach forth,
to hope an innocent youth
may learn the many mistakes
collected and condensed
from one life to years to weeks,
summarized by your trembling hands.
yet I fear, as you may too,
that as we fade from existence,
our voice echoes lost;
our words unread forever,
to exist untouched
as a decorative piece
on a pretentious bookshelf.
Apr 7, 2016
Apr 7, 2016 at 12:14 AM UTC