Do you hear?
A whisper,
A murmur,
The death of conversation?
It's the end of an idea,
Returning to thought and it's creation.
A fog surrounds us,
It's thick,
It's sick,
It brings anxious vibes throughout,
But still we suck it in,
Breathing less than a cough out.
Are you there?
I know you,
I see you,
But you're out of my senses.
You hide behind shaded glass as you talk,
You won't let me inside your defences.
I can't hear you no more,
You're lies made me deaf.
I can't talk anymore,
You took away my breath.
I can't feel you around,
You're eyes make me numb,
I can't think or make a sound,
You're love has made me dumb.
The facade we make to hide ourselves within,
Two covers,
No lovers,
We don't belong in society.
The thought of me and you,
Brings about a round of anxiety.
I can feel you dying,
Trembling,
Resembling,
The end of a start.
As I see your expression,
Comes back the reflection,
The stoppage of your heart.
Do you hear that silence?
It's static,
Enigmatic,
But it's what we desire.
No more lust, no more hurt,
No more ignition for this forsaken fire.
YOU ARE READING
Stained Hearts
PoetryMy first book of poetry, consisting of prose poetry and rhymes. Just a collection of thoughts and experiences translated into whimsical poetry, made specifically for your poetic appetite. Mostly I write about nature, time, a bit of love and...
