"miniscule" poems
some nights you will feel
like there are a thousand galaxies
exploding in every inch of you
and you are burning too bright
to ever be looked at directly,
and some nights you will feel
impossibly small, like your
whole body could slip through
the spaced between atoms and
never reappear in this world again,
and some nights you will feel
like a paper doll, carefully crafted
and easily blown away, fragile,
too delicate to ever be touched,
and some nights you will feel
like each cell in your body is
made of the strength that holds
the whole planet together,
and that is okay because you are
made of stardust and miniscule
atoms and breakable bones
and the building blocks of
everything in the universe,
and you are too alive to never
feel anything more than human
Jul 10, 2014
Jul 10, 2014 at 11:27 AM UTC
the miniscule, crystallized phenomena
floating down on their zephyr gondola
to the little children's enchantment.
the wintriness nipping at their stamina
produced petite gloved hands pulling tightly at their jacket.
to rollick the day away was their only commandment.
fast forward a few years, and they'll be learning algebra,
their minds drifting away during lectures on parabolas
to the forgotten days of freedom; they lament
the loss of their fragile frostwork taffeta.
Nov 19, 2014
Nov 19, 2014 at 11:04 PM UTC
I thought that saying goodbye,
would be the hardest thing to say to you.
And in a way it was,
but in another it wasn't.
It felt sad; it felt exhilarating.
I thought that love, all kinds,
meant giving you're all to someone.
But it doesn't, it means something more.
It means that you give them a piece
of yourself for them to cherish,
and they do the same.
But you can't give something away,
that doesn't exist.
I didn't understand at first,
but now I do.
I never loved myself,
I loved you.
I used to feel I would die
with joy from being around you.
*And then I woke up one morning,
and I realized that I did die.*
That the every miniscule piece of who I was,
had ceased to exist.
I realized that I was empty,
and always had been.
*So instead of killing myself for your love,
I lived for my own.*
And now I drive around,
listening to Tom Petty,
wearing red lipstick;
lips wrapped around the back half of a cigarette..
And I am so happy.
I feel free.
I feel like I can conquer anything,
because I escaped a painful death;
a death by you.
But then it was time to say "Hello again.."
and it was harder than goodbye.
It brang back the memories of sadness.
Of lonliness.
Of being afraid.
Then the moment passed...
And I still feel free.
Oct 25, 2014
Oct 25, 2014 at 8:40 PM UTC
_1981_
They came in like diseased eagles; mutated
forms of those they wore on their chest and
with the change once again in the weather,
the ZOMO swooped in to quell what was
‘wrong’, what would bring them down. They
run in the streets as well as the miners,
running for different reasons and different
aims. I look down, out my window and see
the army helmets littering the street like rats.
Police. Rats.
I could no longer see a difference. My father
went to work that morning. I clutch my doll
knowing the chance of seeing him again is
Miniscule. Poor.
There is no more cereal in the cupboard;
there is no more cereal in the shop; there is
no more shop. The ZOMO set it on fire when the word
Solidarity
appeared in the window.
“We are closing the border for the safety of the People”
Incorrect. Unjustified.
For the safety of You, the Elite.
“Nine killed in mine shooting”
Which side?
Only the ZOMO carry guns.
Fascism. Communism.
I could no longer see a difference
Apr 9, 2017
Apr 9, 2017 at 9:40 AM UTC
I beg inside my soul to have you.
I don't love you.
I want to feel passion, desire, and the warmth of another body pressing against me
I could grab any man I wanted, but I want you.
I see your brown hair
let me run my fingers through, just once
Your eyes
soft earth
Your lips
pink lilacs
And all I want is your body
Which is very saddening.
To only want to use someone, then toss them aside like trash
How can you?
And still fall asleep at night without thinking about a face wet with tears
your fault
I simply want to do to you
What you have done
To All the women before me,
The same song as a trickery
I want you to fall in love with me
an instrument meets the music
I want you to hold me close and kiss me, as you share your fears and truths.
a melody plays softly
I want you to believe in love because of me
Think of me, breathe me, and miss me when we are not together
accelerato tempo
Until one day you meet me in a corner booth at our favorite restaurant, and I rip your heart to shreds
*Look, I never loved you. I lied.
I used you to get what I want.
You are a pathetic, self-serving dung heap that only thinks about himself. You wooed me, I pretended to like you, so I could dig under your thick facade of masculinity, and discover your sensitive side. I know what you are--man whore--and I enjoyed using you. You can lie to everyone, every woman from this point on, but ten years from now, when you are married to wife number four and you are waiting for her to come home and she never does, I want you to crawl into the bed you made and bawl like the whining, sniveling baby you truly become at night when no one else is around you. I hope 'lonely' presses you down so hard it hurts to breathe. And maybe then you might turn into a different man or at least your miniscule brain will have an inkling of true heartbreak. Doubtful though--I win. You lose*
Then I get up and walk away from you, ignoring any pleas and ****** slurs.
Caesura
Nov 11, 2014
Nov 11, 2014 at 12:39 AM UTC
And now...
I have come to realize how truly strong a person you are. Stronger than anyone I have ever met. To keep a secret like that, and never tell without crumbling.
And now...
I have come to realize what a selfish, self-centered ***** I really am to be so caught up in my own dumb mind with my own worthless problems that are NOTHING compared to what you withheld. I won't dwell too long on what an awful unsupportive friend and person I have been because that would once again be drawing attention back to me the selfish way I have been doing, but I feel like I have to say it at least once: I am so. so. incredibly. sorry. I never noticed or asked how you were or saw that something was wrong. I'm so so sorry I wallowed in that pathetic self-pity for so long just over my stupid issues that are so miniscule compared to yours, I basically want to whack myself in the head with my guitar I'm so ****** at myself. I am SO SORRY I wasn't there and I'm SO SO SO SORRY I surrounded you with my own dumb unnecessary negativity when you had enough of your own. I'm so sorry. I cried for nearly an hour last night out of anger with myself for not being a good friend and out of sorrow for your troubles and the pain you must be going through. You can almost always tell when I am upset somehow but that is like your odd supernatural inexplicable talent and I don’t have it. I wish I did, but I can tell when someone likes another person somehow almost always accurately but what use is that? I’m just so sorry from the bottom of my heart and I promise that beginning NOW and today I swear I am going to be here for you. I am so sorry for not being there. Okay, I’m going to stop going on about it now.
And now…
I can see everything I didn’t pick up on when I needed to so clearly.
And now…
I just want you to be okay. I JUST want you not to be in pain. I don’t know how to fix you but I’ll do anything I can to try.
And now…
I want you to know how brave you are, to go at it alone.
And now…
I want you to know, two years ago, we agreed “No Secrets”. Well, since then we have kept multiple secrets from one another. All of us. Since then that agreement has become less and less realistic. There will always be secrets and that is just a part of life. I understand why you didn’t tell me sooner and I just want you to know that I am always prepared to drop literally everything of mine, physical, mental, and emotional to listen to you and care more about your problems than mine because yours are always and have always been far greater than any of my pitiful woes. I will always understand why you keep things from me, but when you choose to share it, in your own time, then I will always be there to listen and understand.
And now…
I will never abandon you in this.
-Love Ember
Nov 29, 2014
Nov 29, 2014 at 11:02 AM UTC
this constant
invitation
into stark mystery
is a story
i flounder
to find words for.
~
a glance,
more
than eyes looking.
beholden
entrancement,
upon feedback's
looping.
~
i am a crippled logician,
wrought with wonder
in the thrashing
static jungle,
of no conclusion.
~
this is a flash
this here, the flesh
a blinding
binding light,
obliterating,
without solution,
a living,
i tremble in.
~
i am stumped
i am little
so small
hung
here
in the
sky.
~
a suspended channel
of ideation,
filling, with
empty utterance.
~
i am confounded
i am large
too grand
to
get
ahold
of.
~
breathing
multitudinous,
full, with
contradiction.
~
a grandiose
enigmatic flux,
miniscule
and massive.
Mar 9, 2014
Mar 9, 2014 at 5:21 PM UTC
YOU ARE THE DAISY IN THE DESERT, PERHAPS YOU THINK YOU ARE ALONE
(if you don't count the grains of sand)
BUT SOMEONE WILL BE GLAD THEY FOUND YOU AND YOU WILL MAKE SOMEONE SMILE, PERHAPS CRY OUT WITH JOY.
YOU ARE MINISCULE BUT YOU ARE IMPORTANT.
DO NOT FORGET THAT.
Jul 16, 2013
Jul 16, 2013 at 8:09 PM UTC
I saw a flower
So miniscule compared to a tower
But it’s beauty so superior
The tower so inferior
Though a piece of art
Created by someone so smart
But a flower wasn’t designed
Nor created by mankind
Instead a natural piece
It’s life only a temporary lease
Nothing is forever
Nor constant, always an unpredictable endeavor
But that’s the beauty
Nature’s easily attainable duty
The want, the need, to continue on
As we look forward towards the next dawn
Dec 16, 2015
Dec 16, 2015 at 7:23 PM UTC
Heartbreak
Is not an overreaction
Is not a figment of imagination
of the ones who feel too much
Heartbreak
Is not simply a word
for the ones who have loss.
Is not simple at all.
Heartbreak
Is ripping
Is the tearing
of one's heart into miniscule pieces.
Heartbreak
Is the breath
that both catches in your throat
and completely leaves your body.
Heartbreak
Is the physical reaction
in which your heart stops beating
and your lungs stop working.
Heartbreak
Is when your smile stops working
but you use it to cover up the tears anyway.
Is when you picture your life without them in your day.
Feb 13, 2017
Feb 13, 2017 at 2:06 PM UTC
feathered shadows
ripple like the water
in the wind
on which they're cast
miniscule
molten metal
droplet beetles
dive beneath
the shimmering water
bathed in
metamorphic waves
of bending light
inobservably tiny legs
quickening
in a graceful fury
sliding through the world
like slow-motion lightning
or a brilliant spark
unnoticeably extricated
from its source
Aug 6, 2014
Aug 6, 2014 at 11:54 PM UTC
I am standing still as a rock curled up on the floor shaking back and forth. I am overreacting in response to your underreaction and something in my body just doesn't feel right anymore. A piece of me is angry that you dared to have this much control over me. Why were you trusted with a sword you didn't know how to use? Because these wounds are leaking blood and staining the new clothes I'm wearing for you. My underwear is covered in pictures of your favorite fruit that will never taste the same again.
I am trying to rationalize your behavior. I am making up excuse after excuse for you and I am disgusted with myself. It was you who put me in this situation and it is all your **** fault which is why I am to blame. I didn't know that nothing was strong enough to break glass, but here I am shattered after your lack of words struck me. Who do you think you are, because apparently I know nothing about you.
It was so subtle that I almost missed its hands wrapping around my throat. My face was blue by the time your rejection had sunk into my skin, pins and needles over every bit of flesh. I was changed in an instant.
You don't miss me back.
That knowledge bouncing back and forth inside of my skull on a Monday night. And maybe you were tired or maybe you were stressed or maybe you were revealing the truth to me, finally, releasing your feelings, or lack there of for the first time. Wasn't I so lucky to be there for your debut? I can feel ants crawling around on my heart and they must be hungry because they keep biting away miniscule pieces of me that I guess I didn't need.
You mean so much to me but I must be meaningless. I am breaking down and apparently you couldn't care less. You never told me you didn't love me, you never told me you didn't miss me, I had to figure that one out for myself, you never told me I was nothing, but that is how I am feeling.
And soon you will have to see my face and I will get to look upon yours and we will be together. My soul will be screaming out at you, demanding to know what changed, but my lips will not make a sound. I am silent and it has always been my greatest weakness, well, until I fell in love with you, anyway. All of this pain, yet I won't have a word to say. I am trapped here wondering what way it will go. Most of me doesn't even want to know. It's only a matter of days and even after all of this, I still manage to miss you, but
You don't miss me back.
May 23, 2017
May 23, 2017 at 8:13 PM UTC
Reflections of my self, my being, my person, my soul,
Forever replayed, reshown, redone, reinacted
For the fact is
The strength that settles in my palms is ignited by the ignorance of man.
Oh man oh man how corrupt and vile does your mind be
Calculating and engineering plans and strategies
That will never leave your mind,
Free
To be or not to be
A mockerey
Of your confused biology, which hysterically
Questions your existence.
A gift so great,
Yet bronzed with your persistence to query the beauty I have given you,
Which is life!
Behind every man is a woman who loves and sacrifices their own needs and Necessities for happiness,
Clarity and justice.
A dancing cherubim dancing elegantly like a warm summer ray from your childhood Window.
Revitilises,
Re-energises,
Re-grows,
The root of your soul
As if the buds of may.
Honey toned, chocolate foamed
Milky light,
All pleasures for your delight.
Spread on to one body of immaculate perfection
Formed from Aphrodite's tears.
But the woman,
The woman possesses such omnipotent spiritual clasp on nature
That if she was to know,
Overstand
Or
Even accept a miniscule quantity of this knowledge
Then-man-would-be-woman.
To trap and encase a man like a rodent
Is to burn a ring of fire around his finger that leads life to his heart,
Where it beats impatiently to the tune of the womans song.
Skin soft, eyes lost
Sight of who I am,
Many different descriptions -although similar- still not the same,
But am I really to blame?
For the insecurities that you have belittled on me.
For my hair is long,
Then short,
Then short,
Then none.
My skin dark,
Then light,
Then light,
But not right
A constant fight,
A battle to aim for the right kind of existence but even still
I Exist!
And realise whatever you insist, still
I Exist,
Which is that gift that i hold in my being here,
Looking there
At my elegant stare,,
Which i dare
To offend the image, which you have sought to be womanly.
No longer do I fear my image
As it is a powerful icon of modern day life
To withstand the turbulent stresses and grind of strife
To help a man.
To have.
A happy.
WIFE!
Oct 6, 2015
Oct 6, 2015 at 10:34 PM UTC
Acidic Memories of Flying Free on LSD!
(FOR J,S, and N.S)!!
Miniscule piece of blotting dot,
Slices through my brain...
Swear I felt it sitting there,
Time and time again,
Stereo sound distorted,While wild mind cavorted,
Feeding much imagined images,
Mirages in a mist,
The light fantastic, it was stripped,
Brain enlightened as she tripped,
Is it night time?
Dark or Light time?
Haven't got a clue,
Free riding wild,
Runs as sparkly space pilot,
On the end of the bed,
Hell on earth,
I lost my head!
Was that funny micro-dot, purple, pink or blue,
Confused in a bedroom,
Where the hell is the door?
Couldn't escape, till toxic fit left..
After too many hours,
Shut my eyes,
Tried to sleep,
Not a chance in hell,
My mind flew well,
Trippping on flashes of dots and of dashes,
Colours of rainbows,
Flew through my head,
So much more so when I needed my bed !
CopyrightLivvi Kent 30/04/2013
Aug 26, 2013
Aug 26, 2013 at 5:44 AM UTC
silly siren
perfectionist nymph
lay languid
adjusting to the realm
of awkward itching
manic laughter
frenzied fictions
where the dead lay awake
a miniscule matter
both sailing in ***** grey
and laying in wait
on one end
a microcosm
opens to infinity
and any further action
is unnecessary
and tepid
Sep 22, 2014
Sep 22, 2014 at 10:26 PM UTC
Such Waste!
When I leave the tears flow,
Whilst at home I know,
Smile inside,
Behind green eyes,
Knowing that you painted it,
Hiding in visage,
A pretty happy place,
Since you stumbled sadly,
Into disarray by chance,
Know we may be together,
Only sometimes,
In times choice,
Simple speck,
Entirely!
Share heart space,
In grace,
Ingratiated,
Grateful for your time,
Twitters float as hummingbird,
Miniscule flirts with love,
Serenely talented,
Awaiting touch of serendipity!
We can never be in honesty,
Maybe,
Honestly guided,
Through duet of crazy lives!
A bond so definite,
So infinite in style,
Captured,
Fondness,
Much more than fondness,
Snatched in my warm heart,
Your smile,
Laced,
While tactile tenderness prevails!
Pen pushes while we drift,
Alive in sleep,
Dark pens kiss,
Fire and ice,
Pleasantries,
Not always,
Always filled with spice,
Diurnal in eternal writes,
Divagated by his own diversity,
A writing fuelled fellow,
Filled with deviance!
Character presented,
Is just soul tormented,
So classically unreal!
By ladylivvi1
© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)
May 29, 2013
May 29, 2013 at 5:47 AM UTC
if i exposed myself,
every feeling,
every thought,
every miniscule detail
that forms my body,
my brain,
my identity—
i would be dead to you.
(thankfully, though,
i’ve gotten the memo early.)
it’s obvious now,
you never wanted a child.
you wanted a robot, ready to reprogram.
a servant, to do your bidding.
a doll, to dress up the way you want.
you wanted perfection,
not a child.
you wanted perfection,
not me.
you are not my god,
and i will never be made in your image.
Dec 23, 2022
Dec 23, 2022 at 12:55 AM UTC
Those eyes captivate me
When I look into them
I lose the ability to breathe
Those eyes reach into me
They grab my stomach
And tie it in a thousand knots
Those eyes devastate me
I cannot know about the
Universe that lies inside them
Those eyes are a mystery
But a miniscule clue
Has been left behind...
And I don't know what to do.
May 24, 2015
May 24, 2015 at 6:32 PM UTC
October 3, 2013 at 1:22am
So maybe I still miss you,
but apathy is the way I want to feel towards you;
*I want the ache in my chest to diminish,
to be completely extinguished in a quick fleeting moment.*
But it’s more like erosion,
only washing away the most miniscule amount at a time.
Decreasing the pain in the tiniest of amounts,
taking decades and centuries of
wind,
light,
and rain
to morph it into what I desire it to be,
without any distinguished timeline.
Just natural causes that move uncontrollably along,
constantly irritating,
festering,
and ripping
the scab of the wound in awkward moments of solitude.
I’m a slave to the tormenting low burning throb.
Jan 3, 2014
Jan 3, 2014 at 1:12 AM UTC
Harm no one, the inevitable thought of a miniscule Agamemnon,
The insufferable, the pious, the deceiver,
And the devout, the sheep, the lamb,
Lead me I follow, Follow me I will train you,
Despicable, For here there is only nothingness disguised as a cruel sacrifice,
I believe in nothing, in circles, in patterns, in physics, in atoms within atoms, in life that studies itself,
I believe in the arts, in music, in poetry, in dreams that are breathed into existence through an artists touch,
I believe in family, in pure love, in unconditional acceptance, in forgiveness and the cultivation of hope,
I believe in people, who's emotions rage like the sea, who's ideas raise whole cities, who's dreams are to find peace and understanding, who sometimes are misled but are never beyond the good within themselves,
I believe in life, in growth, in the earth, the mother of us all and the sun, the father that watches his children basking in his warmth, I believe in trees that give us oxygen and water that gives us life.
And so I believe in the underdog, the unseen, the overlooked, the underrated, and the unappreciated, I believe in the here and now, the present moment, the kiss, the dance, the wine, and the open hand. There is nothing of your cold religion, or your angry god that I need. Because life is all around me and beauty is in all things here and now and forever.
Space spirals on and the river of time still flows in all directions, it is eternal this holy thing and it is without end, no mans demonic godhead will ever bring it down and this disease called religion will eventually be cured.
Jan 11, 2013
Jan 11, 2013 at 2:37 PM UTC
the curtain has risen,
and miniscule snow flakes,
make their appearance,
darting to and fro across the sky-
their stage.
they quickly find partners-
one bows, the other curtsies.
and they begin to dance
twirling and spinning,
weaving stories with every move.
they dance a breathtaking ballet,
an astounding performance.
at the end of each snowflake's performance,
they sprinkle the world around them,
making the atmosphere light
as the lawns turn white.
inside a cozy house,
one filled with the spirit of the holidays,
two people sit at a windowsill
on the second floor.
they watch contently,
at the beauty just outside their window.
the two people-
a content boy and a wistful girl,
are wearing slight smiles,
as they enjoy the bliss of winter
and each other.
fingers interlaced,
with shoulders touching,
the boy plants a kiss on
the girl's forehead.
and they get lost in the moment,
watching the ballet
together.
Nov 26, 2013
Nov 26, 2013 at 10:32 PM UTC
Sitting on stage
The glare of the audience immobilizes my every move
Is there a way this paralysis will soothe?
The lights suddenly blare
Like a deer bathed in headlights
How can I escape from this radiant bear?
The conductor baton rises into the soundless air
Sweating, stammering, shivering
Will this be my final prayer?
The sound of an A fires from a clarinet
Bow on string, I imitate the shrill
This magical note seems to be my fever pill
A-D, D-G, A-E
Instrument seems in tune
But will this miniscule fact solve my problem soon?
As the chief baton swings side to side
Flickering images in my mind crash like a tsunami tide
Joy, Love, Hardship, and Harmony
Music conducted the opening to my passion ceremony
Fire ignites my being
Like bungee-jumping off a bridge
The words “Anything is possible!” now beaming
Like poetry, music is an art
Raw emotion strangles uniformity
Expression bears no limit
Creativity beats as our vital body part
Apr 17, 2013
Apr 17, 2013 at 1:38 PM UTC
I'm trapped.
Trapped like a rat.
And he is the house cat.
We live in New York,
which is to say,
we live in chaos.
We like to dream big,
but we don't follow through.
Afterall, a cat will attack a rat because it's a rat.
The way of our world.
A beautiful hurricane of a vicious cycle.
When it rains,
it pours.
You and I are a perfect example of no pain, no gain
but the gain is really so miniscule that this game,
Mr. Cat,
seems like there is truly no glory in winning.
A rat can try to run from a cat, and very few escape.
If I could evade the cat and leave New York...
I have the time to contemplate...
Could there be a better existence in which I am a) not being chased, attacked, or trapped by a cat, and b) free of the noise and chaos of New York?
I have been in this corner for awhile now.
His patience is everlasting.
He guards the safest escape route.
Cat's are smart.
There is, however, a crack in the wall.
But it would be a tremendous fall.
A chance, perhaps, this rat could scale the brick wall of the apartment building,
down 10 floors to the alley and scurry scurry scurry far far far away.
Wait.
He is...retreating?
Is this a trick?
No, it seems I've bored this tired, old house cat!
This is my chance to leave, lickety-split
out through the hole behind the welcome mat,
that rests against the south wall.
I peak my head out of the crevice -
there seems to be no cat.
I run. Scurry scurry scurry.
Hurry hurry hurry.
Too late. It was a smarter trap.
Retreat! Retreat!
His teeth sink into my hind leg.
I squeak, I thrash. I poke him in the eyes with my sharp nails.
He releases me and I hobble scurry to the crack.
The cat is attacking the wall.
Furious.
Next time, he won't allow me to fight back.
There is no point in staying here, afterall.
I will take my chances on the wall.
Out the hole, brick edge by brick edge I cling and claw my way down.
....
I made it.
...this is a free rat.
There is no cat.
There is still noise, anger, people everywhere;
shouting.
This is not where this rat wants to be, either.
Out of New York.
That's what is desired.
The cat has left me with wounds,
and memories of torture.
I will go, and heal, over many of moons,
and find peace in my future.
Run and run and free free free.
So it wants, so it has done, so it will be.
Nov 20, 2014
Nov 20, 2014 at 7:45 PM UTC
have you once
thought about
whether or not
moths ever feel
afraid
of getting burned
by the light
they always
and forever
long to chase?
don't you think
they stop
for even a second
to deliberate
about it?
or maybe
to them
and their short life
it was worth it?
hey,
did you consider
that maybe
it's why the have
such short lifespans?
perhaps in the lenses of
miniscule eyes
of ephemeral dismal colors
in this infinite world
the warmth
of flames
are all they live for?
i don't know...
maybe that's why
we humans live longer?
we,
or at least some of us
have the mind enough
to say that
"this is the
"closest"
"i'll ever be'
"to the sun"
before we all turn into ashes.
Feb 23, 2019
Feb 23, 2019 at 7:12 PM UTC
Lately I have been hanging your voice on my wall.
It came in ten different frames,
and I spent hours adjusting them
until they hugged the wall at the perfect angle,
their gilded bodies pressing against painted emptiness,
whitewashed space.
And when I feel nostalgia
twining around my veins like wild ivy,
I only need to reach out and –
“Hello. My name is –“
“Hello. My name –“
“Hello. (Stop.) My. (Stop.) Name. (Stop.) Is. (Stop.)”
“Hellomynameis –“
Do you remember that?
Did you know my hands shook,
that I tripped over words like I do
with miniscule cracks in the sidewalk,
that my heart stuttered
thumpthump thu thump thuuump thumpthumpthump
and how it hasn’t quite been the same ever since?
“I love you.”
“I love (rewind) – love (rewind) – I love (rewind)– love (rewind)– I love you.”
“I love –“
“Iloveyou.”
You thought you could pry me open
and tear down my walls
and then suddenly you did.
It only took three words to start a hurricane in my heart.
Did you ever notice the aftermath,
the broken homes and homeless souls?
I am still rebuilding.
I hammered this one into my soul,
can still feel the echo of your words
pounding away in my bones:
“Goodbye.”
“Goodbye. Goodbye. Goodbye.”
“Good…(clickclickclick)… bye.”
Aug 23, 2013
Aug 23, 2013 at 9:43 PM UTC