"heartsick" poems
Distress shows on my face
like atheism in a priest
yet is welcome in my head
like a baby in its crib.
I'm always where I don't belong
always finding myself singing songs with cicadas
I'm always losing my head
And finding myself stuck, still a slave to time
it's time I find so pressing
not some boy's dejection or rejection of my kind words
(in that sense, I can make 101 comparisons
of myself to a rubber ball, always bouncing back)
no, it's time I'm so scared of
it's time that's constantly breaking my heart
when I fall in love at least 32 times in a day
I fall in love with contentment,
with the sunrays that filter through the leaves
of early autumn trees
with the slight lisp
situated between my favorite singer's lips
I fall in love with the milliseconds when
life seems sublime
when I snake my way out of glass,
when the wind dances on the
ski-slope of my nose,
the moon lifting me up
putting pretty words in my head.
Time will always be sure to come and
rob me of these lovers of mine
and so
naturally,
in their passing I am left hollow,
confused,
longing and heartsick for something that no longer exists
but is still very real
Sep 15, 2013
Sep 15, 2013 at 2:15 AM UTC
My avid gaze
spoke to the rosary
of your flesh
My heartsick tremors
marked me as a wanted man
and burned the villages
of my ancestors
I was a refugee
from time
a friend to no man
My tears washed the blood
from my hands
my eyes withered
the tender bud
So when did I read poetry
on your lips?
Did your mountains fracture
and disintegrate into
sparkling shards
as mine did?
Was the moon an egg
in your basket
as it was in mine?
Little do we know
of the other
when first we clasp hands
and agree
In time
and with luck
we learn.
Jul 16, 2016
Jul 16, 2016 at 6:33 PM UTC
late nights and homesick hearts never make for a quiet soul
excessive coffees and quilted secrets make the heart beat fast,
palpitating, jumping, murmuring hyperbolic hopes
late nights and homesick hearts can only be softened
when one's soul is at peace,
hopeful,
restful,
joyful.
Oct 2, 2013
Oct 2, 2013 at 7:09 AM UTC
She never noticed
books of poetry.
Her life was busy
with empathy
for those troubled
from pains scratched
on psyches from
neglect, abuse
or sacraments to fallen Gods.
She seldom heard music
except when,
heartsick from lost love,
she wallowed in vain misery
or during her youth when
hit parades blasted from
solid state radios
in dashboards, or from
jukeboxes flashing
come hither.
She thought little of flowers
nor paused to note scents,
shades or grace on
stems of green. Her head
was busy with
important matters,
day-to-day grinding
away on work or play.
Now alone,
she absorbs whiteness from
clouds, motion from birds,
or fragrance from flowers
with senses dulled by
age, injury or illness.
She sifts through her
day looking for
fresh tranquility.
Jan 5, 2014
Jan 5, 2014 at 3:30 PM UTC
No longer affectionate, attentive, thoughtful eyes;
instead, an expressionless, invisible, blank stare.
No longer strolling hand-in-hand, carelessly;
instead, walking moonbeams apart, drifting like clouds.
No longer drowning in passionate, lingering kisses;
instead, an obligatory, awkward, fleeting peck.
No longer two hearts bow-tied with strings;
instead, reclusive, lonely hearts, in a noose.
No longer dreaming of a lifetime together;
instead, an uncertain, somber, painful future.
No longer a confident, loving wife;
instead, a heartsick, lonely, aging woman,
Desperately afraid of losing you.
Jun 28, 2010
Jun 28, 2010 at 9:19 PM UTC
We draw hearts to say
I am in love with you
when love disappoints, we say
I am heartsick
when we fall deeply, we say
My heart did a slow somersault
when we know that the heart
is a drum, a pendulum, a clock.
On good days, it is a sundial
but it is always
just a timekeeper, the
tick
tick
tick
of minutes and seasons,
but never
forevers.
Jan 20, 2011
Jan 20, 2011 at 5:52 PM UTC
She's lost in wilds unexplored
Far from dreamers' shining lands
In misty moors where even Sleep
Lets fall his useless magic sands
There is no rest for mortals here
For fools who play where Faeries tread
On Faerie roads, in Faerie lands
The world is turned upon its head
Her stride is sure, yet she is not
Perception is the Faeries' game
Sending visions, glamours, ghosts
Illusions wailing out her name
A fearful girl along the roads
Will bargain for most anything
And here, the threshold of Lost Hope
Is purview of the Raven King
The Raven King! The Raven King!
She fell in wonder at the sight
As castles grew before her eyes
And wild dark turned blinding bright
He led her to the winding halls
She rushed down cobbles Faeries tread
She gulped the dizzying Faerie wine
And took the proffered Faerie bread
They swept her up in swirling dance
For frenzied days, she whirled along
In drunken time, she stumbled to
The beat of Faerie's wild song
And, wilder still, her heart would drum
Excited in the glittered haze
As Fae lay stardust in her eyes
And drew her with their feral gaze
But wait--why did her weary bones
Resist the Fae's beguiling thrall?
Even as her mind was pulled to
Pirouette the Endless Ball
Dissonance--a spell had snapped
She scrabbled at the gilded walls
"Is this to be my cage?" she called
Across the King's ethereal halls
She couldn't sleep; she couldn't rest
Paced and fretted, cried aloud
But she had bargained, drunk the wine
And for the Raven King now bowed
"You made the bargain, mortal girl
You said the words and you were bound
You called out for the Raven King
When you were lost on Faerie ground."
She'd never known the ancient laws
The tricky ways of binding rites
The way the Fae could draw you in
With silvered tongue and phantom sights
The Faeries laughed; the Faeries danced
They brought her back under their spell
She didn't fight--their dazzling daze
Was better than a living hell
So there she stays, a wayward girl
Heartsick, lost, and trapped in Fae
A fearful girl along the roads
Who bargained her whole life away
Sep 14, 2022
Sep 14, 2022 at 12:08 PM UTC
she was a novel
with twists and turns
the kind shoved behind
library bookshelves
and under heartsick beds
she spun words
into velvet
and they seeped
right through her lips
and onto his lonely skin
and oh, how she loved him
with the passion of a sunset
and the bravery of a child
and her words craved him
even more than she did
he was the reason why
her eyes strained a torturous fog
and her words clogged her throat
and a dozen unsent letters
desperately cluttered her room
and her words weren't velvet,
they were just word
and just like her,
they were not worth loving anymore
Nov 29, 2014
Nov 29, 2014 at 2:29 PM UTC
Let not my eyes close for truly resting;
I shall not sleep until I return home.
Until I am aware of your presence
Before me, then I shall cease to exist.
In future, come clarity upon me,
That it may give me the strength to go on
With life and hope, as I wander, endless,
Until the day I shall return to love.
Though my insides quake with fearful hoping,
I shall not falter, for you lie waiting.
True to my word I’ll remain undying
And honest, until the day our eyes meet.
A lips’ sweetest kiss doth long awaits me,
A promise to never part as we have.
Feb 9, 2011
Feb 9, 2011 at 11:03 AM UTC
***I never meant to love you.
I never meant to ransom my heart
for lies that'll linger long after
the ashes from these brittle bones
soil the earth.
I never meant to find myself in the
center of your storm: heartsick.
My mind a chamber
for me to rot, a kingdom for you
to thrive.
I never meant to confuse peonies
for roses. And you -- you
never meant to hurt me.***
Dec 23, 2016
Dec 23, 2016 at 10:24 PM UTC
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Aug 31, 2015
Aug 31, 2015 at 2:07 PM UTC
I saw you between buildings
working in sun
network of light
letting liberty reconnect.
Wires buzzed
high voltage streamed inside them
darkness questioned its own shades
sparks dripped into night's gulf.
Fervent as LIGHTNING
lathering rooftops
sizzling bolts spying timber
smothering scars.
I saw you tunnel down
infinite pure light
shattered by solitude
entering bold, courageous
down into dark mines
soldier who never stumbles
suspending notes caressed in silence
protecting seeds, engaged by yearning
I watched you grow
twisting up
gnawed by roots and rocks
begging for water
circling wider than galaxies
melting skin, taking down drapes
promising to visit me
in tombed up places
dizzy as smoke
curled up by desire
amnesia searching for identity
drafted by absolute fire
changless architect
rerouting for change
vicious as dawn rising in Saturn
gentle as mist leaking from
her melted eyes
swallowing his compassion
vanquished revenge to steam
her savage attack whirled
in amorous sheets.
I felt you unveil arousing
every heartsick wish
blasted down by wailing wills
puddles of December gathering
reflecting on above
while drowning below
who is it speaking kindness
after rippling screams uprooted trees
volley my soul
back and forth
between worlds
consume this spark
encircle your breath
with goading light
dancing inbetween
two ruined buildings
I listened to rocks slurring for mountain
I heard trees lust for water
I felt the cries of troubled voices
flare across two highways
rerouted by dark and light.
Dec 9, 2018
Dec 9, 2018 at 7:47 PM UTC
heartsick.
heartsick because i want those brown eyes
only ever to look at me
that huge smile
only ever to be mine
i want your lips and your arms and your chest
with me
around me
laughing and holding and exclaiming.
you make me
heartsick
in the most thrilling
gut-wrenching
tension-inducing manner
those other boys?
lust.
you?
heaven.
Dec 9, 2016
Dec 9, 2016 at 8:43 PM UTC
i used to slide razors across my skin
and watch the blood run
down my fingertips
i used to steal things from drug stores
and laugh at retards
I used to pull my cat by the tail
until she ran away
and i got so heartsick
i cried on the front stoop
calling her name, begging her to come back.
i used to hate children
and i made money babysitting.
set the kids in front of the TV
and raid the kitchen.
I'm serious. I used to do that.
I used to be proud
when i told people i was an atheist
and
i hated God
and I used to think
He hated me
too.
Nov 21, 2011
Nov 21, 2011 at 3:42 PM UTC
You turn; I begin to run.
That tear glistens in the rays of the sun.
Like a diamond or a blue horizon.
A perfect drop falling down a perfect cheek;
Falling forever, on and on,
I see it and begin to weep.
Tear a river, so peaceful but moving so fast.
Always passing and always there but doesn’t seem to last.
How it fills each rain, causing it to grow.
Consistently growing, but Oh so slow.
Faster, faster the roar of the river screams.
Provoking thought but swallowing dreams.
That’s what the tear drop implies;
A peaceful stirring of a heartfelt goodbye.
Longing to be loved at last,
Yet nothing given back to surpass.
Tear like the rain giving water to the flower.
Making it to grow into a mesmerizing power.
But when it’s plucked the hand is scorned,
All by the poisonous thorn.
A thorn so magnificent yet full of pain.
For this reason, I cannot explain;
Is it the beauty that causes this lack of thought?
Is the pain worth the heartsick, I think not.
So let the rain fall as a shower
And mask the tears from that haunting hour.
Tear as window, sheds light on what’s within.
See the emotions, where they all begin.
See in, but the blinds of the eyes
Hides what’s inside.
The draped curtains of thought
Illuminates what is sought.
The wanting to be missed,
And the fairytale wish.
But the lock is set in the end,
As it has always been.
Aug 7, 2013
Aug 7, 2013 at 12:15 PM UTC
these things are best written about later,
when you could be anyone, and I can lie
(as heartsick yet composed narrator)
about small things, like 'I really tried.'
Aug 18, 2011
Aug 18, 2011 at 3:35 PM UTC
"Faith can move Mountains."
I've read in some book.
Now mind over Melon
can be done with a look.
Hooked up by electrodes,
a test subject's brain
exploded a melon
and fried some plantains.
The Watermelon trick
sure excited the crowd.
The comedian, Gallagher,
truly was wowed
He's been in the hospital,
truly heartsick.
Physically unable
to keep doing his Schtick .
Soon, with his brain,
He'll resume his pursuit,
popping jokes while exploding
some innocent fruit.
Sep 10, 2012
Sep 10, 2012 at 7:08 AM UTC
i think about all the lessons i have been taught. i take them to heart.
i think about how even when you want to urge "drop dead", the moment they tell you they would cut their throat if you didn't love them, the words burn up in your mouth. i love you will not roll off the tongue as easily. when i find myself throwing away everyone who excels in ways you never could.
when someone invites me to walk besides them without words, when a stranger is just inches in front of my footsteps. crossing the street, passing them, being anywhere other than behind. how i can never walk besides someone in case they pretend like you did.
when friendship was about grabbing a fist to pull your muddied self off the ground, when the hand that feeds you is the same to slap you. how you say you're sorry and when i say it doesn't matter, it means more than one thing.
what happens to me when i don't speak my mind. what happens to me when i do.
putting a name to the workings of my heart
a funnily familiar word. it comes to me, where i've heard it before, that time i heard you spit it out when i was walking home.
somehow it still doesn't come as easily as it did for you
looking at the mirror
wondering who in their right mind would, if your sick self hadn't wanted to.
and what a pity for you that you coaxed me out of my shell but not quite these intimates.
i wonder how i was too young to know better, and too old not to by anyone else's standards
i don't patch myself up as much as i do try and build over, hibernate for winter in a coffin i picked out myself.
do you think that if i had my hands in your chest like yours had mine, i'd finally be enough to make your stomach turn?
Feb 24, 2015
Feb 24, 2015 at 6:25 PM UTC
You’ve thought this adventure was worthless.
Let me tell you about
the heartsick lioness I’ve seen
lurking around corners,
her gut held tight and coiled
ready to spring forth.
I’ve been in the grooves of your headsick
arbor. Your drowsy hands
spinning gold and paper,
delicate moth wing,
cyprus blue heart, pleasing
the eye-mouth-palm,
a skimming quick, stilted
casualty. Apex curve of your
force to my cheek,
rush of fleeting beat,
soft and unkempt night-crier.
In front of you lungs tilt and
brains bubble. A presence
in waves, the slap-thud-skid
of your hopscotch heart
pushing ours to do the same.
Sep 5, 2013
Sep 5, 2013 at 10:26 PM UTC
Since you’re gone I’ve been dealing with the hurting
Happiness in my life, felt like I deserved it
Me and you was an item, I guess it wasn’t working
Drinking all these bottles, tryna bottle my emotions....
and I’m smoking
To calm down my nerves
Numb down the hurt
And I can’t find the words
To express
So I can write it in a verse
but just the thought of you makes the feeling feel worse
From trials and tribulations
Smiles are fabricated
Out of desperation
Im asking how can I make it?
Without you...
Cuz I’m so lost and gone
Tryna find another love but my heart is torn
So I grab a bottle and light up another spliff
Thinking suicidal, how can I live like this
Thinking bout your touch; how soft and warm
Then I think about your smile god **** it’s gone
Dec 30, 2018
Dec 30, 2018 at 1:47 PM UTC
My tears fall on another mans shoulders because you aren't there to catch them when they fall.
My fears are done away with by another man because he actually cares about my safety, something that you didn't.
My worries and doubts are taken care of by another man because you were never around to listen to me and help me through the hard times.
My anger is held by another man because you would never want to talk about me, it was always about you.
My laughter is caused by another man because you were never around enough to ease the pain that I feel in my heart.
My heart... My heart is held in another mans hands, and he handles it with the love and care it deserves.
My only question for you is, where were you when my life felt as though dilapidated and I needed someone to lift up my soul?
You were sitting in your house, playing video games, and talking to other girls...
Oct 25, 2013
Oct 25, 2013 at 7:44 PM UTC
i like to imagine you can't feel the way i
can; you are sculpted from ashes and
ice, you smile and you laugh and you
melt when someone touches you in the
right way, but still, you can't fall in love,
not really. you have kept your heart
clutched tight in your own fist, vena
amoris unlaced and fluttering in the wind
like a kite string.
[anybody could make you fly in the right
wind, but the trick is to keep you high
without letting the tether slip through his
fingers.]
it would be easier for me if you really were
so cold, if you were a simply a monster
masquerading as a man. but i know
that the only person here who isn't quite
what they seem to be is me; i'm the one
who pretends that if you came back to me,
i would twist up my lips and pull back my
hands and leave you crawling in the street.
[but i know, and you know, that if you even
turn your head to look at me, i am yours all
over again.]
there is this creature inside of me, malignant
and scavenging for any memory, for the
sound of your name. i think of you and it lifts
its head, salivating, i wish you were here and
it gnaws on my bones until i am weak and
stumbling. i am not sure if it is punishing me
or living off of me, if it is an avenging angel
or a parasite, but i think you both have
something in common.
[i am heartsick and trembling, swaying when i
try to stand, and neither one of you would
bat an eye if i didn't make it. for you, it would
be the same as any other day; for it, well,
there are plenty of others with whom it could
roost.]
Jul 3, 2011
Jul 3, 2011 at 4:21 PM UTC
the sun oozed under my eyelids until I couldn’t keep them shut any longer
I laid there and heard the silence of my house in the morning
there were birds and they sung songs that made me feel heartsick
I didn’t have a hangover
Sam told me, in the most nonchalant way, that he spoke about me to someone I deeply admire and they like my music
first time I watched Tangled and I wanted to punch the mother in the face but I couldn’t because she is a cartoon
Lyra and I both had tender tummies and painted our nails like a rainbow
baths are beginning to feed into my sick games of numbing myself
blatant malnourishment
brash abandon of my self-worth
my mind wobbled over to the fact that someone I deeply admire likes my music and that I must be more noticeable than I think I am
maybe that’s not true though
I swear my dog died about ten times today
I am a plant and this couch is my ***
Am I noticeable?
when I eat too much and feel bloated, I just pretend that I’m pregnant and sometimes even talk to my stomach as if there was a fetus inside of it
I don't think many people do those kinds of things when they're alone
a french accent is beginning to fit me better than an english one, like finding an old dress in a closet and surprising yourself in the mirror
I talked to myself all day because - loneliness
Apr 28, 2013
Apr 28, 2013 at 4:49 PM UTC