He took me to inner places
he taught me
he taught me that I could sleep inside my mind
He was my box of secrets
hidden beneath night time constellations
filled with 1 am revelations
tucked inside corners
that the rest of the world
was too blind to find
And when I felt confined to the creations of life,
he handed me a knife and said
carve your existence
He said teach them
teach them what it means to be beautiful inside
even when it appears that all the rest have died
His ears cried as I slowly slit my wrists
and he, he listened
because he, he always listened
He listened as soft music began to drain
like blood read stains dancing across cloudless skies
and he watched
he watched the tears that filled my eyes
and he whispered
He whispered with his fingers
once you remove the mask
the only pain that lingers
is the scars that you allow to haunt your present
And to me it was evident
evident that he was meant to read me
So I sat up for hours
cradled between cotton sheets that wore my dreams
nestled along the curves of cold tiled floors
that filled with streams of my perception
see I, I attempted to drown him
slowly flooding him in reflection
praying that it would not burn his retinas
and even though he
he had never properly introduced, just who he was
I still whispered
I whispered because
he made me want to crawl upon his lips
and sit there for hours
waiting for him to lick my being
and swallow with one hard gulp
just so that I
Could nestle into the hallow realms of his intestines
and eat him from the inside out
So that
I could show the world
what I had heard of his inner beauty
as I regurgitated the thought of him onto blank pages
inside a spiraled notebook labeled
Poetry
See it didn't matter if he
if he never heard, if he
if he never listened to a single sound
because he
he lived inside my tear ducts
falling upon black stained cheeks
he lived within every word that I would speak
and I felt him
I felt him stealing my breath
every time that I would breathe
I felt him
I felt him sitting upon my pores
every time that I grew flushed
I felt his warmth along blushed skin
and I wondered if he would always remember when
when we were more than just passing friends
when we were verses that seemed to never end
and I
I knew him within
within my soul
and I wonder
I wonder if he will always know
that once you remove the mask
the only pain that lingers
are the memories
that you allow to haunt
your present
Lyrrix
 3300
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Broken Strings
CATEGORY
life
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COMMENTS
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The Immortal Wize says: Very, very nice. |
OTHER POEMS WRITTEN BY Lyrrix
DepressionWho am I? Who am I trying to be? Not myself, anyone but myself. Living in a fantasy to bury the reality, Making myself the mystery, A strong facade disguising the misery. Empty, but beyond the point of emptiness, Full to brim with fake confidence, A guard that will never be broken, Because I broke a long time ago. I’m hurting but don’t tell anyone. No one needs to know. Don’t show or you’ve failed. Always okay, always fine, always on show. The show must go on. It will never stop. The show must not go on, But I know it will. I give up. I give up giving up. I am lost. I don’t need to be saved, I need to be found.  |
You Deserve The World Sis
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Get Your Act TogetherGet your act together read the script, lines written verse. Your audience is only that of one judging everything you've rehearsed.
Do not wait until show time when your curtain rises up. Trying to remember what lines you've read that will never be enough.
One day you'll be called onto the stage to parade your skills of given task. And then the words of judgment questions of you, your God will ask.
Did you practice your script my child? Did you read the book I gave? Did you come to Me for forgiveness? Of which to you, was a promise made.
Or have you waited till the call was heard? Then tried to cram in every word. For n... |
With YouI look forward to writing new chapters in our novel of life waiting to see what each chapter unfolds
With You.... I want to do what spring does to the cherry trees "Blossom"
With You.... I want to travel distant lands visit the Eiffel Tower or shop & take in a show on Champs Elysees I've always wanted to go to France
Let's get spiritual and take a pilgrimage to Mecca, the Islamic holy land, Not saying we have to convert just want a chance at the experience. After learning about Mohammad
We can walk the "Jesus Trail" hand and hand.....beginning underneath Nazareth stars. Praying together at the Mount of Beatit... |
When Did You Stop..........When did you stop...... I swear some days I sit out & whisper this amongst the trees. Once said I was your prize possession, like your trophy piece. You'd shine me up all pretty, set me out front, show me off for the whole world to see.
Even said I was your dime piece. I mean it was like our names were all up in these streets. Hey...did you see those 2 they really seem to be in love. They really go together like a hand in glove.
I mean what happened? Did the glove not fit? Tell me when did I stop being like your favorite song You know??? "Your "
Not in the literal sense but the figurative one. It's like my name stopped rolling across your tongue. As if I no longer shined bright as your sun. Being out & about with Lord knows who. When did I stop being the craze for you? When once wa... |
Two Words (part I)My Heaven |
Two Words (Part I)My Heaven |
Who Am I?I am the ring around Saturn spinning words as particles of ice and dust with the power to transcend
I am the original chosen to be right here right now transmitting verbal frequencies through speaking my thoughts into existence
I am the heir of omnipotence, born with a direct connection to profound abundance The one whose words will age, yet still have substance; since there are no boundaries attached to my pen
I am constant energy Translating personal experience into imagery Vulnerable to tyranny, yet i continue attempting to share some truth through this abstract language of poetry
I am the core I am that I am more I am the Divine Presence that is the Source of my rewards
I am the green you get when you mix too much yellow with the blue ... |
Insecurities or Instinct
Love... |
Broken StringsHe took me to inner places |