Sweden*
Joined: January 6, 2012
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user id: 260636
Location: Idris
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I am sorry for not, posting any of my works on here lately!
I've been writing a book of poems, and I am not sure if
I should post them here. The ending of the book is in a
story like template. ^.^ Comment down below, if I should
post it on here.
Poem.
He tells he love her, this is
the millionth time again.
She tries to grasp at the words;
but it seems to slip out of her
hands, going through her fingers.
“I..” she struggles to say, the words
can’t seem to come out of her throat.
She wants to love him, but it feels
like her legs are broken; and walking
out seems impossible for her cause
she loves him so much, that it feels;
as if she’s being stuck in a hole.
Unable to get out, because it seems
to trap her in one place forever.
Poem.
It is 11:59 pm, a minute before
midnight and he thinks about
her. The girl from apartment
34b, the one who can'tt see;
who finished studying braile,
the day he brought her flowers.
She called herself, Dahlia.
Because people often claimed
she was beautiful, but she
was blind made her like a flower
with no fragrance at all.
He found himself stuck in love,
with a girl who can never read his
poems, if it wasn't in braile; the
girl who smelt like rain drops.
Sometimes, he can hear her
sing at midnight, a song that
can only make mockingbirds
put their heads down in sadness,
because she'll never know;
he loved her.
Drabble.
"Are you okay?" I asked for the millionth time, to my
friend. "Yes, I am fine," my friend says in annoyance.
Maybe, I have said, are you okay? or are you fine? too
many times, that it began to make itself a habit. Habits
can be the worse things, sometimes it can be the good
things in your life that made you successful, I found my-
self asking day by day, every day lately; if my friend was
okay because, not everyone is okay. I came to realize that,
maybe I asked constantly to my friends and family, because
I had no one when I was in the dark times, no one asked if
I was okay. I didn't want people to feel the same as I did.
Drabble.
***
WROTE THIS EARLIER.
Poem.
You told me not to fall in love with you,
because you knew I feared of heights.
But, I took the fall, and found out, it wasn't
as bad, when you took me to the beautiful
places: museums,parks and monuments.
Kissed me in every beautiful place, took
pieces of me; so whenever, I came back to
these places, the taste of you will come back
rushing like blood in my mouth, a metallic
taste. As if I was crushing stones, in my hands,
it felt like it was my own heart in your hands.
My mother warned me about people like you,
the ones who set the fires in the forest like,
lungs making it harder to breathe whenever
I see you. Leaving my heart scarred, from
the aftermath of the fire, my tears never
burned out the fire you left inside my chest,
my cells often rushed back to repair what
was still burnt, but sometimes; I feel as if
the forest fire never seemed to left all.
You were the burning image, a word
stuck in my throat; long dark eyelashes,
big doe eyes, and that wide smile that
seemed warm as the sun and fire.
You were the reason why people were
named after storms and hurricanes,
This might be the third time,
you've talked to me reccently;
ever since, we've broken up.
I've tried to remove this coffee
stain on my white shirt, this
represents how parts of you
is hard to remove from my life,
because I didn't want to let go.
I am a coward, still am today,
but you loved every inch of
me so, I still love everything
of you. From the fears, to the
kisses you left imprinted on
me, like unoticeable scars.
This might be the millionth
time, I've fell for you..Again.
Poem.
My fingers curl tightly around the rope,
I struggle to pull myself back, as my
own fears continue to grab at my feet.
It gets harder to breathe, the constant
reminder stuck in the back of my throat;
who will talk to you today? It only get's
harder and harder, til I slowly slide down
the rope, my hands burning from the rope.
It feels as if, my fingers are bleeding from the
cuts of words, people tried to force to cut me
into be. I pull myself up, and up. Til, I slowly
found myself letting go and closing my eyes.
-
-
-
-
-
-
To wake up, to the very next day of school,
I meet the same people, and laugh. A fake
smile for the people I love the most, and
words that are controlled by my own fear
and depression who acts like they are a
person who has lived with me for years,
come out for the people. With the people
I am with, it's like I am sleeping in my own
mind. A hollow person who speaks. I will
never let my darkness consume me, she
asks me, "why aren't you fighting anymore?"
"why aren't you fighting anymore?" repeating
and repeating. I tell her, "I am now."
I will never be silenced by my pain.
I'm fighting to live.Drabble.
Your eyes widen as you've seen the world like a snow globe,
fall from your hands. Slowly colliding onto the ground,
I look at the side of your face, pain held back on your face,
tightened pursed lips. I reached for your hand, linked hands
like chains on your wrists, holding you back when you wanted
to be free from all the pain, surrounding you. Your arms went
limp, the only feeling I could share with you, was the friction
between our hands. Creating fire, that would only soon hurt
the both of us. But I held your hand anyway, continued to be
there. Even if it'll kill me towards the end, I would turn my
eyes downwards, to your broken world on the ground. Pieces,
and shards of glass stood still on the floor. You fingers felt cold,
against mine; a feeling that was always heated as we kept body
contact. I had to go, letting go of your hand. I turned to the per-
son who look entirely the same as me, as if we were mirrors.
"Goodbye," I whispered;
to the girl who I used to know, held back by chains on her wrists,
held back by her own fears with their very own spears.