a poem
Ummm... Untitled (I could -not- think of a good title, for some reason)
It slips between your fingers, grains of time flowing free
But holding on tighter still, you can't seem to see
That which you capture, and can't bear to release
That which you hold prisoner, will eventually seek
a way to escape you, a way to break free.
I see it in your eyes, and I see it in your smile.
I know the loneliness that you keep in denial.
I hear it in your voice, and I hear it when you sigh.
I know why it is that you struggle not to cry.
And though you tell yourself you'll be all right,
That won't help you to fall asleep tonight.
I have felt your pain, and I've been through the fight
I could tell you each and every time that I tried.
I smiled through it all, while I kept my eyes dry.
And every day I lived on, was another lie.
And though I kept that well hidden inside,
There were things that I still couldn't hide.
Inside me a gaping hole, grew dangerously wide,
Until all that I had fell through, I slowly died.
I didn't even notice that I was giving up on life.
Until the day I lost myself, and in place found that knife.
And though it hurt to let the blade glide,
It seemed to shove other pain aside.
On my wrists I have scars that do not lie
and reveal the truth without being asked why.
And some who see them will breathe a relieved sigh,
and thank their God, faces raised to the sky.
And though in being better off, they take pride.
Secretly, they'll always have that fear inside.
But You...
You see it in my eyes, and you see it in my smile.
You know the loneliness that I keep in denial.
You hear it in my voice, and you hear it in my sigh.
You know why it is that I struggle not to cry.
And though we tell eachother that we'll be all right,
Will that help us to fall asleep tonight?
I should hope you all know that all poetry I post in here is not for publication anywhere other than in my journal, and if I find it anywhere other than in my journal, I'll be mighty unhappy. And I'll do something about it. I'm sure you don't want to find out what that is, so consider this your copyright.
P.S. Besides, my poetry isn't fabulous anyway, so if you're copying it, I feel really sorry for you.
It slips between your fingers, grains of time flowing free
But holding on tighter still, you can't seem to see
That which you capture, and can't bear to release
That which you hold prisoner, will eventually seek
a way to escape you, a way to break free.
I see it in your eyes, and I see it in your smile.
I know the loneliness that you keep in denial.
I hear it in your voice, and I hear it when you sigh.
I know why it is that you struggle not to cry.
And though you tell yourself you'll be all right,
That won't help you to fall asleep tonight.
I have felt your pain, and I've been through the fight
I could tell you each and every time that I tried.
I smiled through it all, while I kept my eyes dry.
And every day I lived on, was another lie.
And though I kept that well hidden inside,
There were things that I still couldn't hide.
Inside me a gaping hole, grew dangerously wide,
Until all that I had fell through, I slowly died.
I didn't even notice that I was giving up on life.
Until the day I lost myself, and in place found that knife.
And though it hurt to let the blade glide,
It seemed to shove other pain aside.
On my wrists I have scars that do not lie
and reveal the truth without being asked why.
And some who see them will breathe a relieved sigh,
and thank their God, faces raised to the sky.
And though in being better off, they take pride.
Secretly, they'll always have that fear inside.
But You...
You see it in my eyes, and you see it in my smile.
You know the loneliness that I keep in denial.
You hear it in my voice, and you hear it in my sigh.
You know why it is that I struggle not to cry.
And though we tell eachother that we'll be all right,
Will that help us to fall asleep tonight?
I should hope you all know that all poetry I post in here is not for publication anywhere other than in my journal, and if I find it anywhere other than in my journal, I'll be mighty unhappy. And I'll do something about it. I'm sure you don't want to find out what that is, so consider this your copyright.
P.S. Besides, my poetry isn't fabulous anyway, so if you're copying it, I feel really sorry for you.