Fragile

The window to the terrace
is open to let the breeze fill my room.
The melodious Sam Smith,
is filling me with wanting feelings.
His voice so tangible with pain,
that I feel breathless.

I can't feel my fingers,
as they grip my sheets in anger.
Feeling overwhelmed.
The pressure in my head,
is threatening to kill my sanity.
Don't let this be the end.

The moon is gleaming patiently,
over the sleeping city.
Tomorrow is another day,
filled with longing looks and sighs.
Wanting to give you that missing piece,
the one you've waited for.

Please don't break my heart,
it's fragile and it's yours.
I don't trust myself enough,
to stop me from falling.
All it takes is a breath from your lips,
and I crumble, down, down down.

I want to lay with you in the sand,
entwining my legs with yours.
Breathe that warm scent of skin,
that only the July sun can bring.
My feelings are not yours to take,
but mine to give.

I am fragile.






Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Confused

Maybe, there's a reason for all the pain. Maybe not? But what I know for sure, is that we can't take it all at once. I tried to be the good person, to give of myself, in the right way. Without hurting any one, or myself. I know I am not perfect, in any way. No one is. Really.  But, I also find it hard to imagine a world where there is less pain.
Read more

Day One

 We can start over, whenever we want. It’s a wonderful opportunity that we have.  Taking it for granted will lead anyone down a dark path. I might not always be aware, what good I release in the world.  But I will try to savor the small moments. What else can I do to make it feel like there’s a meaning to all this madness? I don’t imagine, I’m the only one with self-doubt. In fact, I am painfully aware how it infects all of us,  at some point in our lives. I’ve gotten knocked down to size,  yet again. It hurts, more than I can describe. Maybe it is possible to get out on the other side better?  I sure hope I can do the impossible for the millionth time. That is why, this is Day One.
Read more

Angsty teen

I love looking at things I've written a decade ago - am I really getting that old? Then, some times you come across  a poem where you wonder what was going through you at the time. You can't really remember what brought you to that place where the poem came from. To be honest, I remember being an angsty teen and really focused on the bad things that were happening in my life, but still I can't remember who I wrote this about. I honestly always draw from my own experiences in life so this must have meant something to me. For the life of me, I wish I could remember. I published the following very short poem online in 2003: --- What can I say, to make it all better? What can I do, to make it last forever? What can I see, that you don't in me? ---- I find it funny now, that I could be so completely lost in someone to write such a poem. Yet, I think it comes with the territory of being a teenager. You obsess and worry and wonder why love hasn'
Read more