Perfervid

acceptance, art, break-ups, creative writing, depression, emotions, excerpts, Fiction, heartache, heartstrings, literature, loneliness, love, memories, missing someone, poetry, poets, recovery, self-reflection, sensual, Uncategorized 1 Minute

I don’t control impulses that recall

you crisply vivid in past moments

anymore than I can control the breeze

that teases my skin like ghostly kisses

 

And how many unexpected times must

thoughts of you end up making me

feel so alone in darkness and small?

 

Doesn’t the all these scars I now carry

seem more like your loves signature

for each time you did me wrong?

 

Some loves are too costly to be dared again

So- if your true nature is to hurt and break;

why do you pretend- to love anything?

 

Still- you leave me standing with water

and memories rushing through…my fingers

 

Poet of the Light ©2019

Published by Poet of the Light

email me if you wish. poetofthelight5@gmail.com If you chose to attack me, I reserve the right to presume you don't exist and unworthy of a retort, or I may just write you and your ignorance out of my mind. ;-) Truth be told~ I’ve no idea what kind of writer or poet I am, how good or how bad really. In this day and age it seems, we sometimes get likes (feel obligated) because we liked someone work/art or message. I’m not keen to that concept, albeit I understand others might be trying to be supportive- within that gray area so as not to seem critical, to someone they perceive as a lessor learner. I tend to write from past experiences, (not all my own) and some are even new drafts of old versions of writes from a more modern view/voice or understanding. I enjoy being a tad provocative in the sense of stirring up ones emotions. I oft dismiss the mechanics because they tend to hinder realities honest and authentic voices conveying a truth, even if but their own. Reminding others in my message what having a loss feels like, traversing as a frail vessel adrift at on a sea of bitterness- alone or a new love acquired, and usually from a childish perspective. All writers have goals and many have entrenched agenda’s but for me, I have the need to write. Everything I write comes from my heart. I share them here, amongst those who might relate, might appreciate what is my style, my tone, my tragedy, my perspective, my naked vulnerability as whispers- from the scars on my heart. I like to think of myself as a high-wire balancing ambivert that can slip one way or another on the stretched tether of my heart whereas poetry serves as my balancing rod. Thank you for reading and your visit. Perhaps we will dance like love birds, to the same intertwining music as we delve in cryptic words on inked pages during our life's…song?

Published

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