Speechless, ignored, could
You even miss me at all
If I fell away?
If I drowned like my
Words that everyone doubted
And learned to neglect?
A silent heartbeat,
With the silence you put to
Everything I say?
I wish a friend would
Like my company, I just
Haven't found one yet-
I'm quiet. I'm talked over a lot.
edit: i finally found a friend that does :))
u used to like the way i listen u liked it more when i'd speak
i'd fall asleep to ur voice and find heaven in ur heartbeats
missing u hurts my core, makes me think feel and cry
tell me if my hands didn't still shake when i see u would u allow urs in mine
i look at you
you look up and away
you're ready to flee
from this deserted place
sow your seeds, grow your roots
i inhale the dust
circle the discoloured wood
the bitter taste of your drifting eyes
made the living room floor even colder than usual
as the air grew thin and sharp
i know it's real, your face is here
but it breathes
along with the tress
on the outside
separate from me
I do not need alcohol to have
I do not need cigarettes to be
I do not need dope to be
I need to feel you in my
I need to breathe you in with every
And even if you’re just a high,
I want to never come
I do need you.
Thank you to everyone commenting, reacting to, and liking my poem! If you enjoyed this poem and want to see more of my writing, follow me or check out my website, www.wonderforest.net! Also, my poetry book will be out on the site and on Amazon, April 16th!!
It took no longer than a heart beat
Then all the memories were gone
But I could still recall
That it was a moment
A moment in which I knew
A moment in which I was whole
Was it a dream?
Was it a parallel universe God wanted me to see?
And the person I was in it, was that really me?
Inspired by the novel "the ocean at the end of the lane" by Neil Gaiman
I’d love to hear your thoughts about this one :)
We carry our worlds within our hands
And communicate in time with our heartbeats
We can see the world from above and far away
Or the inside of ourselves in minute detail
Time can be tabled, abstract or meaningless
As we try to find our souls
We adapt to ever change
While love remains the same
The pulse of the spirit is about love. It is not about the rage of this worlds pain.
It is about a life transformed that will never be the same. The voice of healing has nothing to do with what man has in mind.
The heartbeat of truth and the presence of hope, have nothing to do with a slippery *****.
And ye,t for the one who will listen, it is about bearing fruit, and a hidden rose about to take root.
The path of peace has nothing to do with less noise, it is about, entering each day, with the promise of ease.
To read more of my writings go to: http://reflectionsoflight7.wixsite.com/home
I saw my mother in her bra
the day her heart rose up indignant,
and brought her to her knees
She stood tincture in hand
lifelong faith in earth’s medicine
she still believed it would ease,
loosen the vice grip
(not this time)
That day I remembered—
saw her soft turtle body under the certainty
the marble godliness, life’s layers hardened into
a bullet proof vest—
I was held to that heartbeat
I needed that skin like food
She was held to a heartbeat
she needed that skin like food
You were held to a heartbeat
you needed that skin like food
If I close my eyes in morning sun
I hear it still—
in the rhythm of the rain
quiver of wing
deep ocean drum
There's not just mother, there is Mother
Without a feed
I have been seeking
without a help
I have been wondering
do I exist?
I'm full of living
nothing suits me
nothing ever makes me feel better
what am I doing here?
the universe is huge
is there someone to hold on to ?
who will stop
this pain from raising again.
Falling in the emptiness, losing hope, this feeling of being empty we all know it but with a different degree, we all have life, but we don't live it the same.
As we are growing up we face all the miseries of life, all the bad or good, sometimes we fall so bad, and sometimes we stand up so strong.but the hardest part is losing what we were looking for, not knowing which path should we take and in this darkness we start looking for the light.
The river's current was supposed to be weakened by the barricade
but the bags of sand and the bricks of clay that once gave her closure,
reside years beneath her murky water.
Where do broken hearts go?
Do they get lost at sea?
Do they float?
Do they still beat?
Or do they find a home?
Perhaps it will reside with the girl
who thought her warmth could thaw he who was cold and ******.
She couldn't, though,
because his alluring bed of rocks broke more than just her bones.
Because you see, her barricade that was weakened by the river
caused her lungs to fill with that murky water.
She wasn't lost.
She didn't float.
There was no longer a heartbeat,
so she no longer had a home.
When I looked myself in the mirror,
I couldn't help but choke.
My 1 AM thoughts, but I am not my thoughts.
haha get it, **** like a dam?? also "****" as in daaaammnnn that's dark. I think I am funny.
Each beat feels like a muffled rumble,
Like it's too hurt to beat all the way.
Between each beat is a pause,
That makes me think that my heart is going to stop,
But without fail,
The rumble starts again.
Quiet and slow,
Without any rhythm or flow,
It spreads like an echo,
All across my chest.