tell me again about heaven by captive-serenity, literature
Literature
tell me again about heaven
it's like warm hands
after a day out in the cold.
Loving, tender, and smooth,
aching, floating, alive
yet suspended in alternating time.
Where one second becomes two hours
and we're running late
for obligations
because these hands--
your hands--
are all I need
to survive.
Just the mere thought of losing you
is the fingertip which tips the emotional
curve, domino after domino, functions failing,
systems crashing, and a sturdy foundation
comes crumbling down around me.
And I'm standing in the rubble
of crushed hearts I've never seen,
Tears I don't remember crying,
And screams echoing between
the[don't leave me here alone]ears.
A simple touch does not reassure me;
Your voice temporarily steadies the panicked heart.
But it takes a night time
Of feeling you close beside me,
Until I know for sure you won't disappear.
And I'm standing in the clouds
Feeling raindrops before they turn to snow,
Seeing r
No More Cloudy Weather by captive-serenity, literature
Literature
No More Cloudy Weather
Recount the seconds
In the slow-motion act
of boy meeting girl
and try to remember
the world...
before love.
Stormy skies seemed to wallpaper
The past. Do you remember?
Choppy seas and constant bad weather.
Always on the edge of getting thrown
Off the shiplosing the balance
to just try living life.
Was there truly a time when life wasn't touched
By your presence? Are soul mates meant
at birth, constantly searching, forever drawn
to one another? So no matter what
each choice is reflected in the others eyes?
I try to recount the moments
When you weren't here beside me.
But it's just a fuzzy cloud
Of
Please, love my breasts by captive-serenity, literature
Literature
Please, love my breasts
Wanted: Partner.
Someone who shows interest in Sunday walks,
prefers midnight brunches to lasagna dinner parties
and sits by a fireplace quoting his secretary's legs
while complimenting the cooking I never do--
since it all comes from a box.
He has a healthy relationship with the bottom
of an alcoholic bottle and an unhealthy one with his mother.
Someday he takes my hand as we stroll the parking lot,
And other days he walks ahead, head drooped
while he admires asses and pictures my hips.
I will talk poetry in cryptic riddles over the ricochet
of bullets coming from the TV screen. I will fall into
bouts of depression that not eve
What If I Didn't Drop It? by captive-serenity, literature
Literature
What If I Didn't Drop It?
Dear John,
I thank you for getting my license back to me,
but unfortunately, I could have used it about three days,
four hours, and fifteen minutes earlier. After I left the bookstore, I ended up getting pulled over. I went to search for my license, which was obviously in your hands, and didn't find it. This did not go over well with the police.
When I went to get out of the car, I accidentally opened the door in such a manner that wasn't so pleasant for the man standing on the other side.
Oops.
I ended up getting taken in. Can you believe that?
After fingerprints, retelling my story a billion times,
I ended up walking back home with
You act like it's as easy
as flicking on a switch
to make me smile.
But being depressed
and suffering from depression
are two different things.
It's like turning that switch
and there's that one glimmer
of Light,
before darkness descends,
and you're screwed
because that light bulb type
for that lamp
isn't even made anymore.
so you hope that, maybe,
there's a replacement,
but the basement
is too far away.
"your mood swings aren't fair to me."
Well, it's not fair
for my mind to walk off
and leave me alone
in the dark.
eleven unspoken things by captive-serenity, literature
Literature
eleven unspoken things
1.
If my shoes were yours, if only for a day,
Perhaps you'd understand the reflection
which glares at me in the mirror,
maybe you'd give a damn in the silences
instead of searching for a blame.
Able and ready to point the gun at anyone
But your own head,
Afraid of accidentally hitting the trigger
Because you'd rather stand alive
Than alone.
2.
I miss us.
I miss watching you sing with the windows down.
I miss walking, scheming, planning, dreaming,
How impossible the future
it's not always simple by captive-serenity, literature
Literature
it's not always simple
An hour into the future claims I would have died
at the intersection connecting Union and Broadway
because I was looking the wrong way
and forgetting important facts
and lingering on mishaps
instead of concentrating on what matters.
A simple correction.
A quick reminder.
Avoids deadly consequences
so a life can be saved.
A year into the eyes of a stranger leaves you
standing breathless because they have forgotten to breathe
sinking into a porcelain tub of ice cold water
because no one cared to ask
how are you
as they crumbled inside.
One small smile.
A helping hand.
Avoids a broken heart
down the road.
You woul