Maura Herboldsheimer Poems

Burned, she flinches far from the fire
Withdrawn in the defense?
Or is it something higher?
She says it's to get away from the cold
...

She couldn't see
And neither could he
Blindfolds start weighing
No visible seams.
...

All she remembered was shouting
In the frightening woes of her sleep
Misadventures, trials, the battles
Memories she dared not to keep
...

You cried out as you tried to hang on to the wire
Screamed and bled as you swung even higher
You were careful to hide the blood stains on your wrist
And afraid as red droplets leaped to the abyss.
...

I bid you a question that haunts me this day.
Is love really love, or is it just a play?
Is this feeling a trick that is played on your mind?
Is it a sin to talk of the love that you find?
...

Her hands continue to cling to the gloves in her fist; a peculiar sight, for the temperatures can get awfully chilly. Her garb is colorless, bleak, black. Her bonnet offers no shield to the bite of wind, and instead looks awkward against the curling locks of fine blonde hair.


She looks like an angel, and it is all I can do not to wonder why such a creature could carry such a forlorn expression across her perfect features.
...

Days go by
Still her eyes are unmoving.
Her face like stone
Etched forever in the throes of a dream.
...

Words.

Despising them so
Their absence
...

I'm forced to turn to your disdain
When I can't keep a beat.
It tries me so
A bitter foe
...

Oh my, what a coincidence!
The details of this incident.
Shocking weren't for the fact
That self control is torn to shreds.
...