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It's our time
The sublime
Rhyme and reason
We season this reality with words instead of thyme:
Both are medicinal
Antiseptic chemicals to keep away the grime


                   *Don't tell me any different


                Bare witness to the gift of bliss that is *expression

                       Words can increase life expectancy in the midst of depression
             They can get back at those who hurt you without using a weapon
            Or refresh your mental image when you're feeling less than

They form legacies and dedications
Eulogies and congratulations
They give everything in existence an identity
Even the most ****** obscenities

Words are life and words are love
Words even form this silly cheesy stuff

       **To everyone feeling poetic, I have but one question
      What's one way, while writing, your life has been blessed in?
Breathe each breath as if you are inhaling the sunrise of a new day**
            Possibility filling your lungs
        Every cell in your body
Dancing to the rhythm of a fresh start.
I am like a man
That lives inside a very small cube
      *
*And is deathly afraid of corners
They say home is where the brain committed suicide* first
Hushed conversation overheard
Flushed worth down the drain
And as it spun
The dark corners never seemed so inviting
Enticing how the pain makes you notice yourself when no one else does
Reality is a setback that you've sat through and kept mum about
Contemplating the things that are all in your head more than things that actually are
You've already done it a thousand times
And accepted the indifference growing like vines that intertwine in your mind
Now your thumb is out and you're looking for a ride
Not any particular place, just "away"
Toward somewhere not quite like this

*You use a tied rope as a taxi cab
Lost inside a clockwork
        Heart attack

        ‎     Waiting to happen
        ‎   Ticking and cracking
        ‎    The silence in half with a second's helping
        ‎           I was hungry and delving deeper into somnambulance
        ‎                      Gambling my waking minutes
        ‎       Away with a hazy resemblance of life
        ‎     The sharpest of minds couldn't cut it out
        ‎   This troubled route gets more fractured with each forced laughter
        ‎             Hours pass faster the faker my happiness becomes
        ‎                    I scrape by on a yearly basis as my days have gone numb
        ‎
For an entire lifetime
I thought I knew
How to spell "Love"*

    *Until I met Y-O-U.
To my beautiful, sweet Melanie.
This life has become more than I ever wanted it to be and the future looks even more hopeful as far as I can see.
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