 |
Poems On Site: 198,500+ Comments On Poems: 427,000+ Forum Posts: 105,000+ |
Custom Search
|
|
|
||||
| Welcome ! | Home · FAQ · Topics · Web Links · Your Account · Submit Poetry · Top 30 · OldSite Link | 29-May 17:37:29 AEST | ||
|
|
||||
|
|
||||
|
|
||||
|
Array
(
[sid] => 76644
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => December 20, 2004
[time] => 2004-12-20 18:43:46
[hometext] =>
[bodytext] => Remember when you said you’d always be there for me? Yeah, me too, but the space on every side is vacant. Maybe it’s true, maybe I’m blind and I simply can’t see what you’re talking about when you tell me to “be patient.” We both know it’s never been my forte. Patience, I mean. Why is it that you use all these phrases that you know drive me up the [explicit] wall in every single way? You tell me we’ll go back to how it used to be, we’ll just take it slow. “The way it used to be”; “friends.” But we were never friends as you say. I remember all of the things left unsaid, the broken, trampled heart. I remember the dull ache in the back of every memory of “before,” and I feel the sharp pain of the “after” as I reminisce of times of “during,” especially at the start. So we both are moving our separate ways, wandering down different paths that just don’t intersect; The farther along we get, the wider the median grows, but you just don’t see that, do you? Just like you’ve never gotten it, truthfully. And so our paths differ, bringing things unforeseen along the way. Mine, made of stones, yours of cement; Everything has always come so easily for you, so much smoother. Drifting apart, I find myself spending less of what I finally had… twice, if you really count that second time. The last hurrah, the one-more-try, the solidification that it’s over. After all this time, I break out in a cold sweat to think that perhaps my long-said mantra, “someday I will not need you” has finally prevailed, gracing my lips with an epiphany in the depths of every limb and fiber of my being. “I do not need you.” Gasping for air on a cold tile floor at two in the morning on a Monday, a trail of salt residue left under each eye, green with red emanating from all aspects of flesh, reminding me of the Christmas tree downstairs. This is when I realized that I do not need you as I thought I did: when I broke down for the first time since that last flawed, fatal attempt at an enduring love that collapsed. I guess it wasn’t so enduring, was it? And was it really love? Perhaps only lust brought you back to me. Who knows but you? And so it is, the true end of all hope for us. Now all that remains is “you” and “me,” separate entities with no “us” in the future. [comments] => 1 [counter] => 224 [topic] => 48 [informant] => GKress [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 5 [ratings] => 1 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => EmotionalPoetry )
|
Menu
· 
Poetry
Community
Members
Areas
Reference
Search
Top
Others
Poetry is much like a great photo, a single "moment in time" capturing many feelings and emotions. Yet, they are very alive; creating stirrings within the readers who form visual "pictures" of the expressed emotions within the Poem. ©
Opinions expressed in the poetry, comments, forums etc. on this site are not necessarily those of this site, its owners and/or operators; but of the individuals who post items to this site.
Frequently Asked Questions | | | Privacy Policy | | | Contact Webmaster
All submitted items are Copyright © to their submitter. All the rest Copyright © 2002-2050 by Your Poetry Dot Com
All logos and trademarks in this site are property of their respective owners.
Script Generation Time: 0.052 Seconds. - View our Site Map | .© your-poetry.com