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Literature
Over
To be over something
is to ride a speed bump
up to its crescent
and crush it
under tire
until the road is wrinkle-free.
To be over, some
tires have to lose
their grip
on past reality.
To be over someone
is to drive a car
through potholes
to find smooth road
ahead.
To be over, some
one has to say
those potholes
don't feel like quicksand
anymore.
Because it is over -
you are the speed bump
that can become
a level crossing.
You can watch
your train of thought
passing by, lay
a thumbprint upon the ground
and cry
Then step back,
let the vision vanish
into dust
Let the life tracks
left behind
form a new railway.
Then,
drive away.
Literature
Agony
The clock is
noisily ticking by
-it's been hours
since you last replied,
but I keep checking my phone,
just in case-
the shadows thicken,
darkness blooms
around me
like a graveyard garden,
and my eyes
keep shooting around,
ears
hungrily waiting
for a sign of your text-
but the silence laughs
mockingly and harsh
as I slowly
fall asleep-
phone still
tightly held in my grasp.
Literature
1:05 AM
it's one a.m. here now and i know,
i know for a fact you're awake,
we spoke just over two hours ago but
you never said goodnight
we're both up far too late doing work
we should've started a week ago,
and yet here i am writing poetry about you,
knowing you'll never see it.
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Comments13
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And without the pen
The muse speaks without leaving
A mark of his words on stone.
Only mark of the ear that changes and forgets
Over time.
The muse speaks without leaving
A mark of his words on stone.
Only mark of the ear that changes and forgets
Over time.