tell of joy
reach out to touch your face
never guessed there was a thing to say
never was a way I could get past this
Instant is marked
Sloppy handwriting
Revel for
Retreat to the depths
Willing to escape these restraints
Bumper to my world
serendipity, tripping on acid drops
too much to do, too little to say
assorted poems by my good friend Heather who is among one of the greatest writers I know...
*everything*
before crying from the pain
bottled within the layers of unspoken thought
tortured wishes left idle
where they can't cause trouble
comfort from the depths retreated
back into oneself
intercepted by the pane of glass
separating fiction and reality
possibility and plausibility
what could be and what is
to you
until now
when too many words
clog the back of my throat
words slick with honesty
smooth like deceit
I swallow
when I should spit
on my own
never has a person been so worth the conflict
as your voice in my head
never is a feeling so complicated
as when it is being felt
*scruples*
By the grazing of skin ‘cross my back
Reviving the breath
I’d neglected to extract
Jotted as if to conceal
The slouching of shoulders
A shroud beneath unnerving mass appealever today with focused gaze
Blink one time to clear the shade
Assert my mind to reality
Notice your wire is getting frayed
I barely know
Which way is up?
What way to go?
Passive notions will I not heed
Pursuit of my happiness
Lest is never may mislead
Catalyst to my ache
Trial by fire
Lesson through mistake
*neverland*
my pillow soaked from the rain indoors
set my blood on like fire
the water refusing to release its power over darkness...
god it's so cold tonight
*free self*
we walk in the same direction
one path, leading opposite ways
lost
you in your thought
I in my own
seeking the courage
we assumed the other had brought
now you freeze
a step after I
silently to ponder
who you are trying to please
yourself,
or the inescapable other half
you're hurt to realize
you never before thought on your behalf
the pain is excused
but
as many times earlier
you feel your heart being misused
for there is a scar that goes deeper than physical affliction
in your soul
you know there's a line drawn
between your reality and this wishful fiction
you accept the lies
and compromise yourself
to be near another
to be the one reflecting in their eyes
when you are given this gift
of self-realization
you bury it within
continuing to let your spirit drift
toward a person who doesn't see you ache
yet you stay closely beside them
awaiting the day
when they will affirm that your journey as one has been a mistake
until then
your heart wonders why
it is being put last
while your mind imagines a time
when these days will be your past
