PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

It’s time that has a way of destroying my patience

and hope for just a spark at the bottom of this dark hole,

one star to illuminate the black velvet sky

that stretches across every spec of my vision.



And my sickness has heightened to an emotional and physical level

beyond your understanding. A mind that fights off sleep

lashes out against every thought other than of you:



the way your fingertips trace every curve of my back

and somehow find a way to my too willing hand,

and the way life drains from my face

and falls sharply to the raging pit of my stomach.



Yes, it is those damned feelings that never loosen their hold

on the throat of prudence and self-control.



And I’m gasping for one breath,

one rush of pure satisfaction

to soothe every aching piece of my existence

that longs for reason and answers.



The only sound, a constant ringing, bounces between

the walls of my sanity, encased in a soundproof room,

echoing the words and uncomforting knowledge I’ve already obtained.



And where are those hands now?



I fear I may have misinterpreted every line you ever spoke,

and over-analyzed the slightest of actions.



No, my senses are right on,

it is you who tangled my thoughts, distorted my perception

and ability to differentiate between words and actions,

and I who added to the complexity by questioning those same aspects.



And how am I to continue living,

going on without the answers you are unsure of

to the questions so painful to ask?



I place control in your palms,

burdening you with the responsibility and power to change our lives.

It’s not that I am afraid to do so myself,

but that only you know what will truly make you happy.