You reminded me that I’m not alone,
While believing that no one shared your pain.
You lifted my spirits,
When yours were low.
You showed me that I was loved,
But you thought you were unlovable.
You are why I am still here,
I want you to believe all the things that you made me see.
If you are:
Listening; Holding space; Protecting.
When you say:
See you soon; Get home safe; Be careful.
If you can:
Hold their hand; Hug tightly; Just *be* there.
This is Love. Love is Love. I love you.
So, I started taking poetry prompts again, in an effort to get myself to start writing again/more. If you’d like to be an inspiration for me, leave me a comment with a single word, phrase, or thought. I’ll think about it, and craft a poem from it. Then I’ll post that poem on here and release it into the Public Domain.
“Fucking fuck fuckfuckfuck!” He mutter-shouts to himself under his breath, “This is not going ‘according to plan’.'”
Too close. Fragmented faces following a gaze.
Too close! Broken and betrayed, belittled and dazed.
Too close. Distracted by the darkness; driven mad.
Too close! Picture perfect profile pulsates badly.
BACK UP! Back off. Back down.
Spotlight shining sends shimmering sparkles. Back up.
Radiant rays are rescuing ribbons, back up.
The mirror cracked just makes many moonbeams. Back up.
Illustrious luminations light fires, back up.
snow twinkles respond
I looked upon your face again,
I saw the face I loved.
I saw the person I no longer knew.
I closed the door.
And that, was that.
Do clouds get lonely? Do they weep,
When they stray from the storm?
Does the dresser drawer squeak
To mourn the stand from whence it was stripped?
Are the fish missing their chums
If sharks attack to split the school?
Sheep will bleat, the wolf will howl,
During detachment from their flock or pack.
Loneliness creeps in and settles like a fog.
Rise and fall, rise and fall, rise and fall
Her chest should be like an empire — rise and fall.
But lungs no longer expand; no heart beats.
Bum-bum, bum-bum, bum-bum
The heart-drum should count off the cadence.
But no pulsing thrum, no sigh of exhalation.
And yet, I thought I saw her breathing in the mist upon the glass.