Posted in love, original

Whispers

Shades and shadows

In shapes in the dark

Hidden from sight

And it echoes

It echoes through the walls

And you hear it ever so…..

It’s me

It’s my heart

Whispering to yours

Posted in favorites

Echoes

Late-born and woman-souled I dare not hope,
The freshness of the elder lays, the might
Of manly, modern passion shall alight
Upon my Muse’s lips, nor may I cope
(Who veiled and screened by womanhood must grope)
With the world’s strong-armed warriors and recite
The dangers, wounds, and triumphs of the fight;
Twanging the full-stringed lyre through all its scope.
But if thou ever in some lake-floored cave
O’erbrowed by rocks, a wild voice wooed and heard,
Answering at once from heaven and earth and wave,
Lending elf-music to thy harshest word,
Misprize thou not these echoes that belong
To one in love with solitude and song.      

-Emma Lazarus-

Posted in original

The Whispers

I hear it everywhere

the sound of voices unfamiliar

Their words faint, as if unspoken

yet carried unwittingly through the air

I listen as intently as I could

but their words remain unknown

The voices stir within in and through me

It echoes, resounding vibrations into my ear

Outside the rain slowly falls

drowning the whispers

And they fade into the background of the tinkering rain

without me knowing what they could have meant

Posted in original

Tattoo

I’ve never been a fan, not much of a hater

though I never truly thought of it as art

Preferred those who were without it

like how I preferred those who did not smoke

He was completely the opposite

of my ideal guy

But then again what are ideals?

than mere thoughts and fantasies

 

He was real, as real as can be

he had tattoo all over his back and upper arms

Yet, fonder I grew of him

His honesty and stories, captured me

his charisma, his smile, his friendliness

All bottled into one, which is him

His voice, as he sings, echoes to my ears

 

The tattoos, that he thinks of as art

I’ve come to accept as it is

as a part of him, as a symbol of himself

I admired him, liked him, fell for him

fell deep, fell hard

 

Now, here I am, alone and without

thinking of his smile, his voice

and those tattoos

Posted in miscellaneous, original

No Title

I catch my breath, I hold my tongue

I choke and no voice comes out

I speak of life yet I am dead

empty inside

I hold out my hand, the door is shut

Echoes of endless sadness beckons

I wipe the tears that have formed

I go by the day like a mindless zombie

always on autopilot

My mind’s a blur, Oh! what a mess

I curl up and hide

What they don’t know, is how it hurts inside

Inside….where it’s well hidden

Into nowhere, into nothingness