Games of luck and games of chance
Flying a kite on a warm summer’s day
Are wonderful, stress-free pastimes
Those childhood modes of play.
But do not think to tinker with my heart
To take it apart and wait until I erect it again
Do not mistake an emphatic “NO” for a start
And resume those cruelest forms of trickery.
That façade that proclaims kindness is false
That smile only searches for a new toy to break
Like a self-deluded hero
You mistake a friend as a vampire to stake.
And though I loved you, and showed myself true
I love myself more, than to be treated so by you.
Tag: emotions
Mr. Hyde
Restless sits my soul
While hours wile away
Awaiting the familiar ghoul
That taunts me by the day
He wears my face and pries
The black recesses of my heart
Despite my fearful cries
He laughs, “It’s just the start.” Continue reading “Mr. Hyde”
Unrest
My heart has taken
A flight towards greener pastures
And still, it wanders
Silence
A well of silence
Can center a nervous heart
And provide great strength
Love’s Limits
A heart is finite
Care and worry an effort
Love measured and doled
Numb
In eddying waters
A spring running dry
Drought comes instead of winter
Fear and anger parched out
Along with tender throwaways
Retrospective
In childhood, problems had a clear answer
And tears were soothed and clucked over
But problems of the heart grow in complexity
Tangling human beings and dredging
The murky depths of past hurts
A myriad of ways to process and organize
And still further, the choice to turn away
I will no longer blame myself for mistakes
For that was who I was
And that was the path then
Grief
Making sense of one’s emotions
The twisted conundrums of why
I thought the crying ceased yesterday
But today brings fresh thoughts and tears
The Negative
Where is trouble kept?
Worry and sadness and anger
If I could, I would banish them into nothingness
But why must dislodging it from my heart
Put a shadow of it in yours?
A hydra which grows twice as many heads
As those that are cut and lopped
I heave a rusted sword and can only hope
Unrequited
Sweet is the dreaming of your smile
And unconscious fluttering of your fingers
Which articulate with such finesse
Concepts like a warm stone
Balanced on the small of my back
Content, I watch you precariously
A bodiless whisper
Trying not to draw attention to itself