Of course this is dedicated to my wonderful Fiance Kade. I was right because it has lasted - 5 years this October.
I love you,
to the moon and back,
our love is without
a crack.
I love you,
more than the stars do shine,
I love you til the end
of time.
I love how
we inter-twine,
like two halves of a whole,
together til we grow old.
I love you.
Quite simply put,
you're the one for me.
Soon everyone will see.
For you are the one
who got me
through it all.
I am so fortunate
to have found you
in my darkest of times.
You were the light
that showed me,
once again
how to shine.
Like the stars
up above,
our everlasting
love.
- Erin 15th February 2017
All Copyrights belong to me do not use my work or re-post anywhere else without my permission.
About the Creator
Erin Shields
27. England. Poet. I have Bipolar, BPD & Anxiety. I’ve been writing since I was 18 as an outlet for my mental health.
I also have a Ko-Fi with more of my work: https://ko-fi.com/erin
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Trapped.
A poem I wrote a long time ago. This was before I was diagnosed with Bipolar and then Borderline Personality Disorder. It was my way back then to I guess vent a lot of what I had held inside for so long. It was such a cathartic release and this coping mechanism has stuck with me to this day. Now though I can find enjoyment in writing not just as a release but as a hobby, to improve my skills as well. If any of you are going through a hard time right now reach out to someone who'll listen and care. Get help I didn't do it soon enough. I wish I'd got help sooner but everything has a way of working itself out.
By Erin Shields4 years ago in Poets
Ask Me In December
Introduction This is for Babs Iverson's "Ask Me In December" challenge which you can read about here When we talked about it, I said the flow and sound of the words reminded me of "Gone Till November" by Wyclef Jean which I will use to soundtrack this. It is a wonderful song.
By Mike Singleton - Mikeydred2 days ago in Poets
TICK TOCK
11.59. Even though the glass had shattered, Lorna could still see that her watch ticked over. One minute until midnight. Her watch was the only thing she had that she could carry. The only thing to remember her parents by. A birthday present from last year, the year she turned seventeen.
By Elizabeth Butler4 days ago in Fiction
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