The dark room holds no promises,
and I give myself over to the unknown.
I am unsure if this is poison or merely a cautionary fib.
***
The nostalgic memories leave a scar.
With my eyes closed, I relive the fragmented pieces of you.
I am all but acidic, and I am envious of the flowers that bloom above you.
***
Although, I continue to keep my eyes closed,
and our gavel-to-gavel discourse comes to an end.
I no longer entertain the useless banter, and I focus.
***
I keep my eyes closed,
And from the pit, out in the distance,
I see a thread of perplexing and vibrant color.
About the Creator
House September
We’ll play with each other’s broken hearts. Let us exchange our pieces like trading cards.
I’m too bored to notice, and you are too high to notice the air beneath your feet.
I have poems to share.
Keep reading
More stories from House September and writers in Poets and other communities.
There is a Thin Line Between Tears of Sorrow and Tears of Joy
I remember when my mother passed away. After the tears from the initial shock, our family sat in the living room and shared memories. We talked about her love and compassion toward others, the lessons she taught us about honesty, and how she taught us the importance of respecting ourselves and others. Then we started sharing memories that made us smile and eventually, each of us began to relax and tell stories that made us laugh.
By Brenda Mahler5 days ago in Humor
Comments (1)
Though it started off poignant, I loved how it ended optimistically! Beautiful poem!