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Literature Text
Your eyes lock onto mine,
Icy blue, they freeze the space
between us, and fill it with tension
so intense it threatens
to cut me open and penetrate my heart,
pouring in it hatred and jealousy.
I break away from your gaze,
My heart beating out a warning
To my body; to run, to escape.
I am on fire,
Blood rushing through my veins,
Searching for a release.
Now, with my back turned
I can feel you watching me,
Your shadow replaces mine.
Every move I make,
Every sight I take in,
You criticise;
Whispers in the dark.
With me the act ends;
The mask rises off your face,
I can see right through you;
What lies beneath.
Icy blue, they freeze the space
between us, and fill it with tension
so intense it threatens
to cut me open and penetrate my heart,
pouring in it hatred and jealousy.
I break away from your gaze,
My heart beating out a warning
To my body; to run, to escape.
I am on fire,
Blood rushing through my veins,
Searching for a release.
Now, with my back turned
I can feel you watching me,
Your shadow replaces mine.
Every move I make,
Every sight I take in,
You criticise;
Whispers in the dark.
With me the act ends;
The mask rises off your face,
I can see right through you;
What lies beneath.
Literature
I wanted to grow old with you
I wanted to grow old with you:
turn grey and fade away, subdued.
To walk with you through all the years
and face, as one, our darkest fears.
We'd burn too brightly for this Earth
and share in sorrow and in mirth;
to each the other's soul would bare
and twice the love, at once, declare.
For each would know the other's mind
and there a perfect solace find;
we would be two, though as one known –
discrete though merged & mingled grown.
I wanted to grow old, it's true:
turn grey and fade to dust with you.
Literature
An old kind of love
One hundred years from now
The paint we picked out
Will be seven shades different,
Or old bricks made wise
By some graffiti prophet.
The note you hid in my mittens
– All I dream about anymore
Is the ocean
And you
(But mostly just you) –
Will be drifting through dream-catchers and
Those sapling hopes with
Roots tangled like our fingers and
Branches trembling with the vastness of our memories
Will be driftwood adventures
Nodding off with the tides
But I know in this heart of mine
That the smooth-bark-rain-soaked Beech Tree
You planted for me (there's a swing on it now)
Will still be there
And it will remember wha
Literature
Broken
Something in my brain
I am told
is broken, dysfunctional. It leaves me inept
when left to deal with language unspoken,
the intricacies of smiles,
the unclear line between malice and mirth.
It may have been the shot
given by the doctor
meant to protect but somehow doing harm,
and ignoring
the Hippocratic oath.
Or so say my parents, their organization,
so they may be exonerated.
They liken me to
Ted Bundy, H. H. Holmes,
and Einstein. Because a sometimes-flat
affect is
abnormal,
and it makes people uncomfortable.
Especially when it is not maintained.
At times I am too broken to understand
and sometimes I am not broken enough
because my pu
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Comments9
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Very good poem!!
Couple of minor thoughts, perhaps just my opinion:
pouring in it hatred and jealousy.
(suggest deleting "it")
Every sight i take in,
(change "i" to "I")
I can see right through you;
(suggest deleting "can")
Couple of minor thoughts, perhaps just my opinion:
pouring in it hatred and jealousy.
(suggest deleting "it")
Every sight i take in,
(change "i" to "I")
I can see right through you;
(suggest deleting "can")