I'm in need of something. I'm not sure exactly what it is. But there's a craving for it—a need to experience what it could bring. There's a desire for it. It's so close but still so far away. I can feel it. I can sense it. I can hear it. I'm just not sure of its name. It is everything I need in the moment and everything I want in the future. It is everything I could ask for, but none of the things I thought were vital. I changed from being in its presence to just wanting to be engulfed by it entirely. It doesn't make sense to most, but to me, I finally understand. A healthy love will scare you, have you run for the hills, and leave you to examine yourself before figuring out your need to return. This is an experience worth losing yourself and your pride for. I'm just happy to learn that without complications and repercussions.
Grave keeper, please remember me;
Tend to my final resting place.
No family roots left to trace,
Or bric-a-brac there to fancy.
Heaven knows my identity;
On Earth, I’m just a nameless face.
Grave keeper, please remember me;
Tend to my final resting place.
Honor my haunted memory
Lingering in this lonesome space;
Won’t someone keep me company?
To know sweet mercy and God’s grace!
O’ grave keeper, remember me;
Tend to my final resting place!
This can't be it. This isn't my dream. This won't be my forever. I refuse to sit and dwell here. I refuse to give up. I refuse to settle. I've come to far to get to this place, although I'm passing through. I gave up so much of myself, although, I needed me too. But, this isn't it. This can't be it. This isn't what I expected. This isn't what I want or need. This isn't it. I swear, it isn't.
our next zoom meeting is Sunday June 28, 2020 at 9am and 9pm EST. all are welcome, so pick a time that works and come join in the fun - we read our poems and just generally have a good chat about other writing things 😊🤍
send me a message on either tumblr or instagram if you'd like to join or have any questions, and we can't wait to have you there!!
Maybe someday,
We won’t keep our hearts in boxes
Like litters of newborn strays discarded;
Orphans blind and deaf left to claw
Their way up Earth’s cardboard walls
To be snatched away by perytons like paper dolls.
Maybe someday,
We won’t keep our hearts in boxes
As our dearly departed, clenching crosses
In fists forever entombed in cherry and mahogany;
Buried underground for Persephone to thieve
Like the sweet juice of pomegranate seeds.
Maybe someday,
We won’t leave our hearts in boxes
To never finish what Mercutio started;
Waiting for succubi and incubi in our sleep
Revealing only what people want to belief –
O’ beware the mananangall in your dreams!
Maybe someday,
We won’t leave our hearts in boxes;
We’ll share them like troves of chocolates,
Wearing them proudly on our sleeves
To ache and bleed and break and heal,
Vulnerable for all to love and feel.