Tag: writing

ghost.

I am a bag of bones Time took its toll She spits the seeds I’ve sown Then swallows my soul There’s empty space under my suit of skin She wears my face But I didn’t let her in Do they know she’s here? This…

the cart before the horse.

For years, I would try to tell my dad that our thoughts affect everything. This was only after I realized just how obvious the truth of that statement was. He held such a negative outlook on life for so long, that I could barely…

doubt.

On doubt and what it does to us all… __________________________________ The thief of happiness, our thoughts you invade A sickness of the mind, you fester there You resist positive thought, an infection that spreads Swallow our hearts whole, you are insatiable Leave an emptiness,…

home.

  The weight of past loves lost and old lives left lingering bear heavy load on a listless heart leave little room to feel anything than lonely. A radioactive heart enters rams open doors labeled restricted removes cobwebs from a ramshackle soul revives a…

stone hands.

he’s got these hands made of stone beneath lies the dust of her bones jagged from the glass he’s thrown blood bags laden in units unknown too late to atone

helium.

A love that lifts me up, chemical element, noble, atomic number 2. Floats me to the stars, weightless, his love, it’s like Helium. He.

formication.

The walls, they’re caving in I sit idle, center of room Folded up inside my mind Origami swan in a flesh tomb The heart, its drumming wild I sit idle, center of sin Beating the rhythm of my past Cardiac arrest in a cage…