PM – Page 12 – poetpri

If Love was human

Love, my dearest friend,listen to my laboured breaths,how sweet do they sound, against your chest.

I have noted in these past few nights,that Confidence is not found in the usual places;it is not found inside another personbetween cracks and small openings,between the rust and rubble ofsomeone’s dampened heart,or broken art,but rather amongLs: leather, lipstick and lingerie — and no, I don’t list these because I am an object,but rather becauseContinue reading “the L illusion”

Remember

If I am to remember,what does that truly mean? Does it mean to remember the guns fired,to watch the scarlet blood gleam,or to touch the spirits who are still alive today,and hold them in high esteem? If I am to remember,what am I to forget?For it is difficult to say I am sorry,when we haveContinue reading “Remember”

Line

The tightrope of Life has two sides to cross, the side of departure, changes course indeed, in the balancing act, is felt loss, when birthed under another sun or creed, You may peer below; the abyss shall mislead,it is difficult to move ahead,once you’ve seen those who had fallen by Greed,their pain wasn’t you, norContinue reading “Line”

Quiet voice

When Time fades, and the clocks melt away,I want to be right where I am now,not beside another name, place or day. together but alone, is how it’s best,together is where we shall be,isolated from the rest. this feeling is our home,that we have built from the ground up,the foundations run smoothly,even if they tookContinue reading “Quiet voice”

Legacy

As humans, we didn’t grow up,we grew out of the ocean,floated to the topto join the brine and enjoy the sunshine.Our fins,unraveled into lungs,we learnt thesecret of breathand held the taste of airon the backs of our tongues.We danced across the shores,with sand between our toes.And that was our legacy. Now, I’m here. Where theyContinue reading “Legacy”

Drury Lane

Name here, Sign here, sigh there, Wear and tear of the town, causes tearing of hair, baby cries — — closed eyes. Lullabies sung, Tumbling now that standing up has come, Standing on your own two cold feet, good bye — –I smell, the Muffin Man, hungry as I run to Drury Lane, a girlContinue reading “Drury Lane”