Array ( [sid] => 155555 [catid] => 1 [aid] => mick [title] => hurt. [time] => 2009-12-02 11:15:37 [hometext] => An unedited piece. To long for that which you cannot have, and to be so afraid of loving it completely. [bodytext] =>




I cannot justify this hurt.



It chews very slowly, the sinew and marrow that I long to caress
after what seems like a century
without your fatal ashes, without madness
as wings .



There have been phantoms, but they do not whisper with
your wet voice -
like a river without a name
kissing stones that taste like love if you wish hard enough.


| a bird crumbles beneath the weight
of an unforgiving sky

it learns that just because it has wings,
does not mean it deserves to fly. |



I will confess to you that this is all very pointless -



I wish I could give you more than just words.

they have been threadbare
at best,
stripped
of the ache that haunts
every unwanted
breath,
and i am envious
of their purity.


I hate the clothes that do not scream with your poetry

I hate that I cannot breathe you in, and s u f f o c a t e ,
and become


something less empty,
that i cannot sink and leave
the tiniest piece of myself
in your arms.


i made sure that my heart never whispered too loudly

and
at times i would let it
lay on its side
and dream
for awhile

long enough to where the marks your hands left were the only scars
made with love




your eyes were like a fractured sort of heaven

dull oceans
frozen rain

sapphire tombs that
i often whispered to
and died in


and slowly,

as slow

as pain,
as kisses longed for, but never given,



I become the name you can never recall.








I love you.








[comments] => 3 [counter] => 363 [topic] => 75 [informant] => FleurdeSang [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 30 [ratings] => 6 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => anguished ) Your Poetry Dot Com - hurt.


hurt.
Date: Wednesday, 2nd December 2009 @ 11:15:37 AM AEST
Topic: Sad Poetry

Contributed By: FleurdeSang





I cannot justify this hurt.



It chews very slowly, the sinew and marrow that I long to caress
after what seems like a century
without your fatal ashes, without madness
as wings .



There have been phantoms, but they do not whisper with
your wet voice -
like a river without a name
kissing stones that taste like love if you wish hard enough.


| a bird crumbles beneath the weight
of an unforgiving sky

it learns that just because it has wings,
does not mean it deserves to fly. |



I will confess to you that this is all very pointless -



I wish I could give you more than just words.

they have been threadbare
at best,
stripped
of the ache that haunts
every unwanted
breath,
and i am envious
of their purity.


I hate the clothes that do not scream with your poetry

I hate that I cannot breathe you in, and s u f f o c a t e ,
and become


something less empty,
that i cannot sink and leave
the tiniest piece of myself
in your arms.


i made sure that my heart never whispered too loudly

and
at times i would let it
lay on its side
and dream
for awhile

long enough to where the marks your hands left were the only scars
made with love




your eyes were like a fractured sort of heaven

dull oceans
frozen rain

sapphire tombs that
i often whispered to
and died in


and slowly,

as slow

as pain,
as kisses longed for, but never given,



I become the name you can never recall.








I love you.










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