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Literature Text
the stars crumple,
going out one by one.
i slump in your eyes, longing for your arms,
like wet paper.
feelings swim coyly, koi-like, in my veins.
i open dry lips to tell you
but my words are smoke, all you hear is
ash and embers and
i sit quietly.
the flowers outside are waiting for rain.
it's been this way
for as long as i can remember.
going out one by one.
i slump in your eyes, longing for your arms,
like wet paper.
feelings swim coyly, koi-like, in my veins.
i open dry lips to tell you
but my words are smoke, all you hear is
ash and embers and
i sit quietly.
the flowers outside are waiting for rain.
it's been this way
for as long as i can remember.
Literature
Tired
Tired
The constant resistance
Restraining this pain
Depleted persistence
I'm weakening again
Starting to lose the fight
Longing just to give in
Waiting alone in the night
With thoughts lost within
I know the hope is gone
Cast off, floating away
I really should have known
This is how it would stay
A victim of my delusions
Shadows in a twisted mind
Haunting nocturnal illusions
I can't leave them behind
Left here in the silence
A chasm of spiralling doubt
Fuelled by internal violence
With no escape, no way out
Lost on the edge of control
One step away from breaking
The cracks across my soul
A step I'll end up taking
You
Literature
breathe deep.
i am letting you go.
not in any grand symbolic gesture
or split second epiphany.
it will be quiet
and i will hold my breath.
and exhale
you will no longer rule my heart.
or haunt my bones
Literature
insomnia
I am ill, the fact of my illness shapes the world
gently in its hands. Another night slips beneath me,
and I breathe in… hold… and release. The world
is illness-shaped and I close my eyes and build
a picture of the real world. The sane world and
the slippery slope.
If there is a slippery slope against the sane world,
I can climb. I can climb out past the rising sun,
into the day. A passionate sun on the glaze of
the earth. I breathe in… hold… release. I
will worship the day, the sun giving me
absolution.
I let the sins slip away to a quiet
place. The sun does not ask for contrition,
the illness does not ask
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i wish you had listened to me.
© 2012 - 2024 369dreamergirl
Comments4
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oh, this is lovely. 
"i slump in your eyes, longing for your arms,
like wet paper."
"i slump in your eyes, longing for your arms,
like wet paper."