"thumpthumpthump" poems
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
She is a moth to flames,
fluttering so beautifully.
The night's light sparks her heart,
pumping doses of adrenaline.
**Thump..
Thump Thump
Thump**
Pulsing.
Music booming, cocktail burning;
an Orange Twist in her hand.
*Hey baby, can I get you another?
******* You fine as hell!
Hey cutie, wanna dance?*
Yes, she is a moth to flames,
always fluttering so blindly.
***** scalds her tongue and down her throat;
confused yet she twirls in the blaze.
The strands of her life unravel into
another unfamiliar home,
with another unfamiliar face.
The smell of white lies lined across the table,
a familiar friend to ignite her heart's beat.
**Thump..
ThumpThumpThump**
Pulsing.
Apr 18, 2017
Apr 18, 2017 at 9:35 PM UTC
Love came around on a Sunday afternoon.
A time when trees whispered sweet nothings to the wind
and her heart sung to the tune of another’s voice.
A time when faint lines danced across his face,
chasing the laughter and the smiles in criss-cross patterns
of happiness,
when butterflies stormed in her belly after
having been awakened by the vibrant thumpthumpthump of his heart.
But heartbreak always comes with Monday morning.
A time when the muscles between her ribs ached for
a breath of relief from the constant holding of air.
A time where his lungs wished to be pushed into the deep
so that they may only feel the water and not the emptiness,
when the butterflies sunk down to her toes under the weight
of the splintered remains of his broken heart.
Love came around on a Sunday afternoon, and suffocated on a Monday morning.
May 17, 2018
May 17, 2018 at 11:25 PM UTC
My anxiety is through the roof,
Thumpthumpthump,
My heart charges on nonstop for hours,
How do I fix this?
Why does this happen?
"You need to change
Or you'll remain unhappy" she said.
It took awhile,
But those words finally came through.
Mar 12, 2016
Mar 12, 2016 at 7:33 PM UTC