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Reckoning
| Open Poetry #1 |
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Reckoning |
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Christina Myers Member
since 1999-06-21
Posts 159 |
How bright that light is, when you realize you don't matter to someone how it torments the eyes and blinds- nothing is felt except the dumb feeling of pain what does it mean to be friends? what does it mean to care- but not care enough and to give your heart away, a sliver at a time? I only ask the questions to the things I've never felt: always falling feet first and sense later I've never learned the patience of waiting, never learned the wisdom of hanging around in the past, when the future could be so much better... So that makes me a fool and a breakable heart easy to crumble and simple to digest- that under your gaze everything falls apart and I am the one left with the abscence of feeling- I am the one left more like you with every glare of light. ------------------------------------------- "you spend all your time waiting for that second chance- for a break that will make it okay... there's always some reason to feel not good enough and it's hard at the end of the day...I need some distraction, beautiful release- memory seeps from my veins let me be empty." S.M. |
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| © Copyright 1999 Christina Myers - All Rights Reserved | |||
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Lost Dreamer Member Elite
since 1999-06-20
Posts 2464Somewhere near the Rainbow |
Sounds like your going through a tough time, I hope things get easier for you soon. |
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Christina Myers Member
since 1999-06-21
Posts 159 |
this is actually an older poem, but thank you ------------------ And I thought: this is how poetry is born. It comes from invisible heights, it is secret and dark in its origins, solitary and fragrant, and like the river it will assimilate whatever falls in its current; it will seek a route between the mountains, and its crystalline song will ripple through the meadows."- Pablo Neruda |
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Saxoness
since 1999-07-18
Posts 1102Texas |
I love how this poem flows! It was very easy reading, and easy to relate to. Than kyou for sharing it. ------------------ "Glory remains unaware of my neglected dwelling where alone I sing my tearful song which has charms only for me." -Charles Brugnot |
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