#melissa
I’ve made a habit of lying to myself,
Mirror staring back, a thousand shards of glass,
each piece reflecting the choices of my past,
reach for the broken, the mused and busted bottle from the top shelf.
I cut myself deep, compassion missing, no slack,
a neediness, a quick fix remedy in ways where we lack.
A permanent sleep comes but none too soon,
you’re a perfect mistake, like a blinding sunlight in the early afternoon.
Use your hand to trace a place along my face, a perfect resting space.
A silent protector, shield in hand, standing guard,
empty out our love, embrace depleted energy, it can’t be that hard.
There’s a need to feel wanted, and wishful stories to share,
don’t loosen your grip on this heart, the hands are there to care.
A handful of flowers, carefully placed in ***** water,
each day dying as they wonder what is the matter.
I long for views, pictured, perfect and painted,
what we have: love, longing and laughter,
encase our desire in each other we’re all that matters,
Short are the days missing the wicked, the sharp and tattered.
Goodnight, for now, as darkness removes the tainted.
May 29, 2018
May 29, 2018 at 8:00 PM UTC
Well you may be stuck in place,
Inside Heaven’s wheel the spin.
As is an angel in her grace,
Witness of all man’s sin,
Giving out her smile in lovely taste,
So oblivious to others…
Whose hearts she fills an eager haste,
Soliloquy to crooning lovers…
Jun 5, 2016
Jun 5, 2016 at 1:27 PM UTC
°•○ Untitled ●•°
Living in the now, new memories are made
Day by day the old r erased
What is this place? Bcuz this world
Has changed; it ain't the same, like them good ol' days.
Now
Confused .
High.
Up in smoke.
Lost in a dream.
How can i be so alive, but be so dead?
Is this my test.. my trial and tribulations; Realization;
Unraveling rationalizations.
We're the product of our own imagination...
Questions.....
© Melissa Withers
Apr 8, 2016
Apr 8, 2016 at 8:35 PM UTC