Heart skipped
Why try?
We both raise
A racket to match
But the more — love
The more — rush
–Emily Dickinson
Heart skipped
Why try?
We both raise
A racket to match
But the more — love
The more — rush
–Emily Dickinson
as i blow thru the reed
the knot too much for me
simply waiting for that repo
and the letter i owe u
do you even think
when hurt seems to be ur season?
because all i seem to do
is simply think of u ðŸ˜
when u write my name in black
when u simply condescend without
is ur heart simply calloused
or does ur notepad: “no, right?”
its been 5 years without
and only one of having enjoyed
yet the more i click on that tiny
the more it hurts to admit
i miss u poet,
even if my response is a con as well…
u were my first,
but please dont be my last,
because even when my heart clears
with poems that are too plain
obvious is my only yearn
because its i who never say ur name 😥
Yassy…
ðŸ˜
just when autumn barely there
the fall i so desperately crave
Splashed with the hint of vermeil
she drops with a sigh
While neglect seems to miss
the leaf i never look for
as if my winter was run dry
my heart drips again with lassion
that only a poet can burn
if i cant buy that which isnt for sale
Then at least i can pick up
That which falls in my lap
as a torn bound spells so clearly,
The grass is always greener
But it may not be mowed!
And still i see u
Right where u should be
dedicated to a poet….