#sticking
Am sticking with poetry
Hoping it be necessary
Whenever I write it seeming like a remedy
My soul ushered with liberty
Serving my mind tranquility
My eyes made open to the sweetness of the melody
Extinguishing severe malady
I start to taste truth hidden in written fallacy
Glancing through my dictionary
Sapping words consistently
Poetry unviels these and more occasionally
Oct 1, 2020
Oct 1, 2020 at 4:32 AM UTC
does it even counts as 'sticking around'
if i burned the bridges leading up to your front door?
now i'm in the eye of the storm
convincing myself you're the shelter
Jan 14, 2019
Jan 14, 2019 at 10:28 AM UTC
My words bunch up in my throat.
I want to comfort people with my words, sweet as honey,
But they're too thick to come out.
I finally get them out, but they're weak and useless.
How do I get them out?
My touch falters.
I try to reach out and help with a gentle touch,
But it lands awkward and uncomfortable,
People edge away not wanting to be touched by me.
How do I fix my touch?
My eyes betray.
I try to tell stories through my eyes,
To spare people my words, that stick like honey,
I look to try and keep my poisoned hands away from them,
But all they display is hurt and sadness.
How do light them?
My writing helps.
I write down all the thoughts that stick like honey.
I try to touch the reader's heart with my words.
I hide behind a screen so they don't have to see my eyes filled with sadness.
How do I do this without a screen and keyboard?
May 23, 2018
May 23, 2018 at 11:50 AM UTC