Your Poetry Dot Com - Born back to me

Array ( [sid] => 174700 [catid] => 1 [aid] => mick [title] => Born back to me [time] => 2013-01-02 06:17:57 [hometext] => Last verse in dedication to Rita Carmen Olympia Pace, may you rest in peace. Inspired by Carina Round's 'For Everything A Reason' [bodytext] => 18/1/12

My mind was stacked high with
Smiles that don’t make it to the eyes,
Behind my own, liquid pushes through
For everything a reason.

The ground on which I walk upon
Is ignored when captivated by my moving bones
Pacing shakily and threatening to disappear
A sore you left in my head.

Skin and bones and hair
And eyes and hands and mouth
But no voice
Of meaning anymore.

Mock ghost in my house, wanders
Until she is put back together with solidity
And her anguish pours as she walks
And comprehends place and time.

The scent of stubborn admission
Everything a contradiction
Nothing makes sense to me
When we run into one another.

Everyone who has cared, one day
Will be brought back together.
In an optimistic mindset,
My eyes would never hold your image again.

At dusk, a false depiction above a shelf,
Whisper goodnight, and take care of me,
Wish my house was haunted in a different way,
To quench my questions and set us free.
[comments] => 0 [counter] => 102 [topic] => 39 [informant] => beneaththefloorboards [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => Grief ) Your Poetry Dot Com - Born back to me

Born back to me
Date: Wednesday, 2nd January 2013 @ 06:17:57 AM AEST
Topic: Sad Poetry

Contributed By: beneaththefloorboards

18/1/12

My mind was stacked high with
Smiles that don’t make it to the eyes,
Behind my own, liquid pushes through
For everything a reason.

The ground on which I walk upon
Is ignored when captivated by my moving bones
Pacing shakily and threatening to disappear
A sore you left in my head.

Skin and bones and hair
And eyes and hands and mouth
But no voice
Of meaning anymore.

Mock ghost in my house, wanders
Until she is put back together with solidity
And her anguish pours as she walks
And comprehends place and time.

The scent of stubborn admission
Everything a contradiction
Nothing makes sense to me
When we run into one another.

Everyone who has cared, one day
Will be brought back together.
In an optimistic mindset,
My eyes would never hold your image again.

At dusk, a false depiction above a shelf,
Whisper goodnight, and take care of me,
Wish my house was haunted in a different way,
To quench my questions and set us free.

This poem is Copyright ยฉ beneaththefloorboards

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