#poemsdaily
You know what you’ve done
But to say it out loud
Is too brutal a reality
It would be suicide by honesty
And you are such a coward
༄
I remember a time when
I thought he would change
When I thought that my love
Would take his anger away
What a dangerous choice
I was willing to make
To sacrifice myself for a man
Who could never be saved
༄
I am so tired
It doesn’t matter how much I sleep
The sadness and worry
Are too heavy for me
And everytime I put them down
To breathe a sigh of relief
I hear the sound of fear and anger
Begin to slowly creep
༄
I remember his hands
The way they held me so tightly
The way they let me go
༄
With you
I am drowning
In despair
I breathe
Incurable sadness
Not air
༄
My whims are nothing more
Than passing fancies
My thoughts no more than a sprout
…
My dreams are nothing more
Than strange realities
My melancholy no more than an out.
-s.r.f (if we were poets)
The mountains fallen with sleepy purple
And over the garden wall.
A giant’s castle in the clouds,
The blackberry scent of fall.
Softly bleed, and close your eyes,
Night tapping on the panes.
The glowy aura of the moon,
And the homely sound of rain.
-s.r.f
I can hear the wind howl in my ear, the crackling of the fire, the sound of my breathing, and my heart beating.
I stand still, the rain falling on my face, my blood running cold.
A speck of my past lightens my heart, a memory of a smile.
I remember his laugh and the way his body moved; The taste of his lips, the feeling of his skin.
In my head, he’s in the rain, a ghost, a memory of his hands in my hair.
He was so warm and heavy.
I lift my face, frozen, burning, and numb.
Staring into the sky and the clouds overhead, I cry.
You don’t know me anymore,
but I’m still here
in the corner of your mind,
a lamp you turn off and on
whenever you please.
You left me in silence, with thin, thin skin
and cracked lips that tasted like iron
and salt.
The sound of my car
escaping your street like a long-ago train,
still rings in my ears.
You say you regret what you’ve done to me,
but I’ve been broken in places you’ve never seen.
If I was already cracked, already estranged-
What is left of me?
The sun rises
at the same time,
but the shadows are all new.
I remember your fingers,
frozen in time, from the last moment I saw you.
I can still feel them on my skin,
cold, so cold, and that’s all they are now.
They’re not the same,
and you can’t warm me up from the inside out
again.
The night falls,
and the world is nothing but a room.
Light strays into the darkness
and gets lost.
I know what it’s like to go missing, too.
I could love you from the bone-deep
familiarity of childhood, from the startled
adventure of adolescence, I could love you
with all the joy and grief of womanhood.
Without turning away, without losing my place.
I could love you.
I’ve been loved
by men who’ve shown me how a heart can break
and still be lucky.
I’m lucky to have had the time
to be silent with you,
to feel your heart beating with mine.
Lucky to have you disappear,
to learn how I will go on,
and find myself still intact.
Lucky to have answered your silence,
your absence,
with my own.
I’m the echo of a canyon
that’s been emptied of its rock, its rivers
without water. I’m nothing to the plants
that need me to live.
The boy in the old photograph
Is not the boy in the old photograph
I see you growing up
from the inside out
I see your beauty collide with your demons
and I’ll always wonder what it felt like
your body crashing against the pavement
with poison in your veins, leaving lost hope
scattered all over the sidewalk
Time,
is both everything,
and nothing
all at once.
and
you can love someone
with everything in you
and the universe will still whisper
“not quite yet, darling”
Something about
this time
made my bones feel different
as if they sat inside me
a little lighter,
and held me together
a little tighter.
A puddle of sweat
forms just above my lip
instead of salt, I taste dirt
and while my heart was beating fast,
I had to beg my mind to catch up
I take a breath,
run a bath.
As I undress,
I watch myself
examining all the new places
that have now been touched
and suddenly
someone new appeared before me
I still have nights when I think of you,
And I
Can’t
Fucking
Breathe.
-b.m.
You’re still on my mind. I tend to remember the laughter we shared, but not the tears I wept every single night because you made me miserable. Why is it that every time we go through a heartbreak, we only remember the good parts?
