Sadness swells and sometimes slices
across old hurts
What do you do when the one you trusted does not
...
We climb the stairs
And like Persephone we are driven into the darkness
We stand motionless
And hear the soft whispers emerging
...
If life was a dream, Oh how wonderful...
it would be to wake up to sunshine and nature..
to bathe in the waters of tears...
to Frolic in a field of dreams..
...
Baby,
Life keeps making it hard
yet my heart still holds.
Feeling your hand on
...
I want to feel;
something besides this
dark tital wave of
lonleyness.....anger...want...sadness...
...
Unto thee:
oh dawn breaking on the
marrow;
Thouest know how my longing
...
Im in highschool, so i have thoughts about things and i want to relate to other people through my writing, please feel free to comment on any area that needs improvment, for im trying to be a writer and i need all the advice i can handle lol.)
Piano Player
It's old, this place
high ceiling
white walls
solid wooden floors
benches still
shine in dull chestnut
at dawn and midday
the sunlight
streams
past the painted mirrors
and reflects the colors
onto these
white walls
There are stairs
in this place
up, up the stairs
turning now
to the old door
with the bronze handle
open
walk across the balcony
dust rises softly
which each step
inturuppting its slumber
only to float back down
there, lies the bench
there is no dust here
there are no crackes
I sit
my fingers brush
the ebony and ivory
each soft note
echos in this place
my hand is drawn
again
into place by sorrow
by want
need
i close my eyes
and fill this place
with time