Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
wordsorpoetry Jan 2018
And every time you touched me, you took a piece of me with you. Every time you held my hand, kissed my skin or stroked my hair, I lost a part of myself to you. Because the more I fell for you, the more of myself I sacrificed. For it was a possessive love, a manipulative and controlling kind. And I changed so much of myself for you, to a point where I was almost gone. For I recall how we'd fought one day, then later that night I apologised to you for it. You kissed my forehead and said you'd try to forgive me. And that's when I caught the reflection of an unfamiliar girl in the mirror. She looked so weak and tired. Her eyes reflected nothing more than mere embers, where a wild fire must have once burned. And I wanted so badly to take her in my arms, to put a match to her soul and set her alight once more. But as I reached out to her, she grabbed for me too. And I gasped, forcing my eyes tightly shut, so I would not have to see what I had become.
(Later that night she threw some clothes and a load of matches into her suitcase. Then she stormed down the stairs and put her fist through the mirror in the hallway. And it all shattered to a million pieces)
wordsorpoetry Jan 2018
And I fell in love with a time.
2am to be precise.
When the air is so thick with silence,
that you'd be fooled into believing your heart had stopped.
And the universe had stopped
and tormented souls had finally stilled.
When the moon casts ghostly shadows
over homes, trees and empty roads.
When artificial lights have long faded
and all that's left is moonlight.
And stars lie like freckles across the black sky.
How very pure the world looks
at 2am,
with white light streaming through the darkness.

(Oh what a blissfully peaceful time)
wordsorpoetry Jan 2019
I kissed you once
and that was all it took.
My fingertips melted
into the depths of your skin.
My lips were on yours
like the brushing of waves
against sand.
I seeped into you
like the sun into the horizon.
We were a sunset.
Blues and reds.
Yellows and pinks.
A reflection in the ocean.
Blinding.
Hypnotising.
Mesmerising.
We were helplessly trapped
in the beauty of a sun
we hoped would never set.

(The shadows of distance are creeping up on us my love, and I am so afraid of the dark)
wordsorpoetry Jan 2018
This is living.
Listening to the sound
of waves crashing onto beaches.
Hearing the rustling of trees,
as the wind dances through.
Watching stars at night,
under a blanket of pure light.
This is living.
The first frost of Winter.
The first bloom of Spring.
The sound of laughter.
The stillness of peace.
This is living.
For the simple things.
For the smiles, the sounds,
the smells and the sights.
This is the gift of being human.
A beautiful understanding
of the world around us.
This is where we belong.
For this is pure, fragile
and breath-taking.
This is
The nature of life.

— The End —