PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Used to have little laughs

And tears

In the same old space

For years.

Like I was taking

Baby steps

In circles.



But

Now I walk

In giant strides

Straight ahead.

With arms spread wide

For the day the winds tell me

I'm ready to fly.



In retrospect,

I had been a prison song

All along:

Ready to die.

But nevertheless

The escape artist of my time

I crawled through walls,

Between bathroom stalls.

I found a corridor through it all

In you...



My medium for Life:

Where fallen hues

Awaken in rainbow wombs.

The same glow can be found

In Heaven's lakes

And Hell's volcanoes.





In U-Turn fashion

She is the intermediary

Between me

And my passion...

A button unfastened reveals

Freshly lacerated skin.

And she traces fingertips

Over every wound

To feel the warmth within

Making me throb...

Yet, when her hands are removed

I only sob

Begging again for the pain...





As it stands,

Love rests on the shelf

In the form of a boomerang.

It has proven itself.