Why is there this hurricane of emotions within me? Why do you not meet me on the stars of memories? Why do you not illuminate my town called heart by completing the incomplete moments? Why do you not adorn the silence inside of me with with your whispers?
Now my eyes close only when they feel suffocated by my sobs. They shed too many tears.. Each breath inhales too many regrets. Each silence hums too many questions. Each tear floods too many complaints.
Why don't you run your fingers over my scratched soul? Then you'll know how many bruises, how many cracks you're responsible for. You'll see that how much my heart is empty.
Sometimes I wonder how my heart can be so empty while my brain is so full. Why can I not equate my feelings and thoughts?
I've lost track of time. So I pass my time counting my breath. It takes too much time to come. It reminds me the day when I'm crying breathlessly and I'm too near to die.
There I sit, working whole night, gathering the pieces and fixing the puzzle of my heart. I fix myself time and again temporarily. It looks like a perfect piece of art.
I'm fading into nothingness. I'm becoming invisible. So this pain would be unable to find me. So done it is. The deal has been fixed.
In this time, I'm watching the episodes, I'm watching everything on replay at a slow pace.I'm watching ~the shades of darkness... the sleepless night... the butterflies that I can't can't feel... the crowd of thoughts... the fixing puzzle...the fixed Smile... the counting of dots...the seashore...the soaked thoughts...the endless love and the fake love you gave me...
Each unfolding episode, a piece of my soul to escape and fly to its ultimate destination - a place far far away from those suffocated people, where the stars will fulfill their wishes without falling,where nothing will be broken.
It was such a bittersweet pleasure to know you like cigarettes dipped in the honey jar, like grey weeds grown among the lavender, like smoke mixed with fresh earth.
~Fading as I'm writing, i was. But now I'm not. Maybe this is my last writing...
It’s times like this…. when it’s over a year later and I’m still crying over you that I want to turn to you and say: See…. This is why I asked you never to kiss me.
The last time I felt alive – I was looking into your eyes. Breathing your air…. touching your skin… … Saying goodbye…. The last time I felt alive…. I was dying.
I raised you so high that every other man on earth is now doomed to live in your shadow.
I would have followed you to hell and back... if only you'd lead me back.
I have poured my heart out …. And now I am empty.
Your smile and your laughter lit my whole world.
The only place I ever felt at home was with you. There isn’t a place for me anywhere anymore… I’ve been evicted.
I try to do something positive – I socialise more… But deep down I know the truth. An entire world of people can never replace the one that I’ve lost.
Though it’s reasons to burn may vary... you are always the fuel of my fire.
Every quote, every book, every film seemed to suggest that ‘one day’ someone would come into my life and love me with an intensity and a passion I had never experienced before. And to their credit they were right; It all came and went so fast it really did feel as if it were just ‘one day’....
He looked at me like I was the stars when all I’d ever felt like was the dark nothingness between them.
My heart’s been empty since you left - but still I refuse to put up a vacancy sign. I’m just not ready for anybody else to move in yet.
Though life has fated that we never cross paths again, don’t ever feel alone. For we are parallel …. and I will always be by your side.
It’s funny how we say a person ‘made’ us when they actually broke us. Sort of like how I say ‘funny’... but I actually mean sad.
It’s the intricate details you miss the most. For me, it’s the soft lines around the eyes when he smiles… Or that look he gave me sometimes that I cannot begin to describe - but I would know it if I saw it again. It was the look that gave him away. I’d know that look anywhere… It used to be my everything.
They say “Follow your heart”…. …. But I can’t follow you where you’re going…
Like so many others my story begins with that same old line…. ‘So anyway, there was this guy….’ Until one day…. there wasn’t. And nothing was ever the same after that….
I’d never dreamed anybody could love me the way he did. And even when he proved it to me time and again – I still could hardly believe it was true.
They say the truth hurts. And these words hurt more than any I have ever written. But they are the truth – The cold, hard, undeniable truth. Not letting go doesn’t keep him with you. It’s still over. He’s still gone. … And nothing will ever change that.
Perhaps I was easier to shake off for you because you’re such a together person. I was just an extra layer on the outside… like a blanket you could shrug off and feel just the same…. except maybe a little colder…. But I was always a broken person that was haphazardly held together by little more than my own strength. And so you just seeped in the cracks and mingled with my insides until you became an inseparable part of me. And as painful as that is, it still kind of warms me to know I will always carry a part of you with me.
In a way, it was the same as any normal break up. You took what was yours …. and I kept what I’d had from before we were together… You took my heart …. and I had nothing…
It is the deepest of wrongs I am driven to write…. And losing you was one of them.
I write what I love. I will not stop – even when my hand hurts…. …. because I cannot stop – even though my heart hurts….
How I wish I could undo it all … take it all back… All those years I spent unhappy with him …. when I should have been looking for you.
You can miss places. You can miss people. Just know that what you’re really missing is the way things were. And even if you could go there again…. see them again…. you can’t go back. They’re not the same. You’re not the same. The loss of them changed you.
Our parting was like a stalemate…. Neither of us won. Yet both of us lost. And worse still … that unshakable feeling that nothing was ever really finished.
Though I never really had you…. … to me you will always be the one that got away.
It’s just never going to get any easier is it. It’s never going away, this missing you. It’s going to become a sadness I incorporate into myself – along with all the other sadnesses – and quietly carry around with me forever…
I don’t think you ever really understood…. …. All the love I had in the world went to you.
I need to stop running back to you in my mind all the time.
You’re everything to me. But at best, I’m just a memory to you.
When I was with him suddenly I wasn’t this broken person anymore. I was just me. I was whole again. I was just a person – like everyone else.
I still think of you every day. But I’m trying not to let it hurt me with the same intensity that it used to.
It hurts that I was just one page in the book of your life… But what hurts more is knowing you’ll revise that chapter someday…. ….. and you’ll erase me completely.
How do you love someone and just… walk away? Just like that. You just, go on as normal…. You get up, get dressed, go to work… How can you do that? How can you be okay with that?
There’s only ever been one person I’ve looked at and thought… ‘I could quite easily spend the entire rest of my life with that man’. And sooner or later I need to accept that he’s spending it with somebody else.
How many times did we pass each other before we met? If only I’d known…. I would have searched for you endlessly. If only I’d found you before it was already too late.
With you in my life I felt like I could conquer anything. It was as if I was on top of the world and even the stars themselves were just within my grasp. But without you …. even getting through the day is hard.
You made me feel worthwhile…. like for once it mattered if I was here or not because I actually meant something to someone…. because I meant something to you. I miss that feeling.
Im gonna be a pretender the rest of my life. Pretending i dont wish every girl i kiss isnt you.Pretend its not you i want to spend the rest of my life with. Everything will be a lie the rest of my life. Thats so hard to accept...
I meant skies All empty aching blue. I meant years. I meant all of them with you.
Je t'aime ~ I love you. Tu me manques ~I miss you.
Chorusing on the pelages of some Yellow Warblers the goatherd faded away behind those ridges ; tripping on the fantastic skylines of sunset some slender reeds giggled through billows.
The plough boy, who was guiding some virgin clouds through his gentle smile and courteous shoon ; Where I, a scalded poet, was standing near the breaths of autumn to scribble about the pastoral hamlet for you.
Those clouds receded from my view, that plough boy didn't appear again but I whispered for the warblers "O darling ! Your sky won't forget me, right !"
Come live with me and be my Love,
And we will all the pleasures prove
That hills and valleys, dale and field,
And all the craggy mountains yield.
- Christopher Marlowe
Pastoral poetry originated in ancient Greece when the poet Theocritus started writing about rural life and nature in the countryside.A pastoral poem focuses on the fantasy of withdrawing from modern life to live in an idyllic rural setting. No matter the form or structure the poetry takes, it always explores country life.
There's a river flowing Loud and fertile within me, My epidermis is a fossil Of engraved touches I've preserved all over The years; my insides are a Bloodshed of flowers I have Always tried to stuff into my Bones: I am not a single entity Mostly I feel like I am Composed of fragile things Found on earth, My overgrown roots overspread Trying to grasp in Whatever my palms could hold of, I have knees covered in weeds, And bruises, from falling over and over, My hands are little branches, Which birds perch upon, The colour of peace is enveloped over my body, Sunshine plays with my hair, Sometimes I collect tragic thunderstorms and pin them over my braids My womb bears young ones With colours of my roof, That changes every moment, Tenderly I nurture them, Along the birds, But I've to let them all go, Some sooner, some a little early. I'm trapped in deep Tunnels of thoughts, Whilst my hands are cut, As my torso falls on Inconsolable carcasses of My hair, and Corpses of my children, Motionless, I lay there, My heart still pounding, Not silent, but loud Like the river flowing Inside me, within and without.