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Poem: Things Change

Posted by Skippyskye:) from Cardiff - Published on 11/06/2014 at 17:13
1 comments » - Tagged as Creative Writing

  • flower mouth

There are twenty-six letters in the alphabet
Each of which can make up different combinations when put together.
But regardless of how many letters or words there are
I can never find the right ones to say to you.
So I could hide behind my metaphors like a riot shield
Preventing anyone from being hurt by saying things how they are;
Just like you covering your face with your hands
Blinding yourself from awkward conversation.

Maybe just once I could stop using
As much as I use oxygen,
And start emitting a healthier way of saying what I want to say.
Because the carbon dioxide that I'm used to isn’t getting me anywhere
So I’ve decided to write this letter to get across what I want to share.

Every time I see you I feel like a flower in full bloom,
I mean, I want to close the door to the rest of the world
And live in another room;
You’d be the light to this new world and the wallpaper the edge,
It’d be flatter than Columbus’ believed
With everything to be discovered in our reach.
It can only be perceived by you
And I;
And no matter how many times you try,
This place cannot be recreated by anyone other than us.

Every time I dream of you I wish it was all real
Like, the words I say aren’t so much of a big deal
And I could say anything without thinking too much about it.
But if you think about it, it wouldn’t be as special if I didn’t,
It wouldn’t be as planned out, like, a prison break;
A map of your mind tattooed onto mine as I try to figure out
The best way of figuring you out and speak to you.

But every time I speak to you the words fumble out of my mouth
Just like a waste of time,
Seeming as if they’re words from a language from another world,
But not the one in another room.
No, they’re from Mars and you’re from Venus,
Or so I’ve heard before.

And so many times I’ve contemplated closing that door
And boarding it up,
Leaving others to wonder what’s behind it,
And when they ask I’ll tell them,
“It’s a love long gone, but never forgotten.
It’s what could have been if I dropped my riot shield
And spoke my mind when I could.”
And touch wood, if dreams came true
I’d take the bars off and open it today.
But the wooden doorframe seems like it’s been burning
Since I can’t find the words to say.

Articles Â» Categories Â» Creative Writing

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1 CommentPost a comment

iblowup2

Commented 22 months ago - 14th July 2014 - 10:31am

HHHHHHHHHHHHHMMMMMMMMMMM!!!

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