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Deborah Lin Aug 2013
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.”
Renée Brookes Apr 2017
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.
Carmen May 2018
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.
Tardigrade Mar 2016
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.
I've been unhappy for the longest time and it's affected my anxiety level. It's time for change.

— The End —