Poetry
54 posts
I miss my mother
Christian
I miss my mom. I miss my mother so much, I often don’t think about her. I miss my mom so much, it takes stumbling across an old picture for me to
Transitions
Christian
it is hard to move, to shift, to breathe new air, when a plan has not been carefully charted. going with the wind sounds fun but when the gusts pick up and threaten
Transition
Poetry
sitting still and just being have never been easy, responsibilities heaped on top of responsibility, no end to the demand i have been expected to keep up with. there is a chair, but
Assurance of Heaven
Poetry
I often search my mind for memories of you, Sometimes I find them easily, a flower bud at the first of Spring, Other times the search is more difficult, - a green leaf
There's Still Hope
Poetry
there is more to see and come to know. the darkness cannot exist in your light. so shine. release the fire within. the flickering does not mean an end is near. it signifies
Fleeting
Poetry
Morning seems to come quicker than night likes to stay The stars decide they need sleep too And hide behind the clouds while the sun yawns Sending the birds of the air into
soften
Poetry
Your patience with me Smooth, flows over every hard “no” Dismantles every “please stop” Sees the fear behind those words For hugs never did me any harm Kisses on the shoulder, arm or
sleep
Poetry
i cannot seem to balance i find myself swaying right to left left to right, center does not seem to exist. i am floating. in and out of focus. how did i get
hiding
Poetry
there is no disguise, no camouflage needed eyes can see but they do not perceive. it is a smile, placed on the face of a body so exhausted by pleasing it seems genuine.
unexpected
Poetry
no plans were made. no dates were set. no new conversations were had. no times were set. no preparations were made. nothing was set in stone. yet you came. you are coming. life
holding on
Poetry
this rope is breaking i can feel it still i hold on to a rope weathered by worry and doubt by fear and uncertainty for they are the only things that frequent me
home.
Poetry
i want to know home, climb its staircase and open its cabinets, wash its windows and open its blinds, unlock its safety and close off abandon i wonder, do the floorboards creek in
still
Poetry
trees sway in no breeze no gust or sweet push where has wind gone out of a body once so full it has found no home from whence to blow yet these trees
Not Okay | It is Okay
Poetry
All spilled out Emptied and void Taken and given in the same breath What is left? when the world told me to smile, i smiled. when the world told me to jump, i
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