Find Myself | 4th Day Of Blogmas

I wish you knew that loving you would break my heart.

Caught | Poetry

Caught on my own breath. On my own words. On my own thoughts.

Like an antelope in the headlights.

In my own headlights. Unable to breath.

Merchant Of Death

Upon the roads, any road you take, you will find him. He fancies himself a traveler, and who’s to say that he isn’t.

Even if you belong to the opposite side of the scale, you will find him knocking at your door.

Grown

I feel I’ve lost,

My sparks of joy,

And boxed them up,

With action toys.

Thunder

Thunder.

Deep and rolling across the land and seas.

 

Thunder.

Bringing rain in life-fulls.

I hear your roars and feel your anger.

Love?

What is like overflowing waterfalls and fountains?

What is something that will never un-stain your heart with its color?

Something known to all, regardless of language or life?

Keep. . .

Keep breathing,

fill your mind with thoughts,

of love and laughter.

My Duet

Radio silence? I can’t hear a thing.

Is it my heart or mind that sings?

 

Hearing music no musicians will ever make.

Singing words that are all but fake.

The Rain Has Come

The rain has come.

It trickles.

Down.

Down.

Down. . .

One Breath. . .

One breath. . .

Another.

One thought. . .

Another.

The circle repeats itself.