PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

my tongue begins to fail

flaws in my poetry surround

my words wrap around



when I wrote that poem

it was not to judge her heart



I just write

in the mourning of her sonnet



longings in my heart cannot reach her

words crawl into my bed

words swirl into my head

words better left unsaid

when I am half asleep and suppressed

so poignantly, without caress

there they stretch their impulsive kiss

it feels like quiet distress



in a corner of my

insides

wounds unhealed where I wish they never were

compressed and embedded

words that fell on deaf ears, well-nigh in silence

not about what was heard but more of words unsaid

affected by every word was sound



I have that verbal and written

taste of words

images

elicited and linked bizarrely

when I suffer from this condition

it is okay



I know I can



I can eat my words





hope rises with the dawn

glowing within the golden sun



I think it's good,

this will be a good day

it's okay, it will be okay.