The Silence Heard
Biography of The Silence Heard
I am not a Poet. I just write what I am feeling or thinking at any given moment, but feel free to comment on anything.
The Silence Heard Poems
You pull me in, I push you away. You call me near, I stay. You reach out your hand, I smack it down. My actions say leave, but I can't breathe if your not around.
They build up within you to point of an explosion. The words, those emotions. As if you have no control over them.
At A Loss
The words only surface, when at my lowest. Like they wait for me to hit rock bottom, or the darkness to overcome.
You held me captive for far too long, I didn't realize you were that strong. There were no chains, no locks, no bonds. And somehow now I'm free.
The rush was what i felt when your memory resounded in my head. The flight of the butterflies within my bones. The tingle that surged right down to my toes. The chill that overtook me when someone mentioned your name.
Surrounded by those who care, so why do I feel trapped? Like the walls are closing in, and I feel so small. As if a giant spotlight is shining on my every flaw.
The darkness engulfs me, how quickly it feels like home. The only place where my mind roams.. free.
I wish to be plucked. To be kissed softly with the lightest breath. To float away into the thin air, to become something else,
End Of The Day Rambling.
Mind. Words swirling begging to be spoken. Thoughts. Jumbled on the paper asking to be taken notice of..to be communicated, to be understood, to be felt.
The tears oh how they flow, as if a stream to an ocean. Never ending, ever current. Why am I crying?
Another Day anew. I will succeed this time. The warmth of the water rolling off my back gives me confidence. How smooth the surface feels with the touch of a hand encourages me.
Another Day anew.
I will succeed this time.
The warmth of the water rolling off my back gives me confidence.
How smooth the surface feels with the touch of a hand encourages me.
The irony as the colors all match inspires me.
Out to the air, as the day begins.
But then the dark clouds start rolling in.
Where do they come from?