It’s the clouds at times that remind me of you. The sun, the moon. The wind. The here and now. The past. Almost everything. Sometimes, there just aren’t enough words. But, you’re still gone and nothing can change that.
Sometimes
Tag Archives: Poetry
Hush
hush baby
please don’t
say a word
let the secrets
of the night
fill you
quietness falls
upon my lips
the bitter sweetness
of this moment
is all
I can taste
curtains closed
darkness finally
consumes me
and the dreams
they come
one by one
I allow
the silence
to have its space
between these
four walls
hush now
don’t say a word
The pages in between
you’re a book
I’ve never seen
I want to
read your truth
line by line
each letter
and every syllable
as your soul
bleeds upon
all the pages
in between
Stitched together
the most
delicate threads
stitch together
the most
beautiful souls
Words
they caress
the battered chords
that make up
my being
slowly strumming
my every curve
every solid line
they drip like liquid
down into
the deepest part
of my core
your words
collect
like raindrops
and fill
my once
empty soul
Her eyes
she had that look
about her
a look
of a dreamer
dark eyes
that see
much too far
her stripped thoughts
find their way
to the end
and wander off
the edge
of the earth
The little things
It’s the littlest things in life that make you stop in your tracks, and truly realize, how lucky you are. In a world where people can be so unkind and ignorant, find the little things in your life, to bring you back to center. Back to you.
Echo
somewhere in the
quiet corridors
of my heart
your whispers
still echo
through every beat
Wow 11 years
My own space here for 11 years. Met some incredible people and lost a lot too. I’ve cried too many times, laughed, loved so much, grown up here really. Life has been hard, it’s been wonderful, heartbreaking, incredible, trying and fun, but I’m still here. Writing along. Thanks for being on this journey with me.
You
I feel
your breath
upon my skin
as you whisper
your dreams
to my soul
your words
sweet like honey
run through me
becoming part
of my blood
while the poetry
silently fills
the capacity
of my lungs
