Just a little bit of what I'm feeling these days.
Enveloped by this space,
Emptiness surrounds me,
Threatens to take your place.
In love with this void,
That whispers to me thoughts of you,
Strangling me with,
A forgotten sense of peace,
I suffocate inside my walls realizing,
Forever left me too soon.
What would it be like,
If I had never known,
The different ways you smile,
Or the way you make me feel at home?
Would I lie here now,
Any less of who I am,
Or would there still be a piece of you,
Holding me together,
Waiting for a touch of your hand?
Fate is such a fickle thing,
Tempting us with her notions,
Feeding us with lies....
Reaching out for each other,
I search for your eyes,
To own up to the love that isn't there,
To drown in their light...
Perhaps to pretend,
There is something left for us to share.
Covering myself with thoughts and apprehension,
Within these meager surroundings,
I manage to hide.
Alone with the truth,
Unfortunate to be known,
Sick with this feeling of "I love you",
Killing myself with "what could've beens",
Yet still finding a reason,
To say I'd do it all over again.
Poetry by Nikki
Read 867 times
Written on 2006-06-02 at 17:58
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Amanda
Lying upon this disaster,Enveloped by this space,
Emptiness surrounds me,
Threatens to take your place.
In love with this void,
That whispers to me thoughts of you,
Strangling me with,
A forgotten sense of peace,
I suffocate inside my walls realizing,
Forever left me too soon.
What would it be like,
If I had never known,
The different ways you smile,
Or the way you make me feel at home?
Would I lie here now,
Any less of who I am,
Or would there still be a piece of you,
Holding me together,
Waiting for a touch of your hand?
Fate is such a fickle thing,
Tempting us with her notions,
Feeding us with lies....
Reaching out for each other,
I search for your eyes,
To own up to the love that isn't there,
To drown in their light...
Perhaps to pretend,
There is something left for us to share.
Covering myself with thoughts and apprehension,
Within these meager surroundings,
I manage to hide.
Alone with the truth,
Unfortunate to be known,
Sick with this feeling of "I love you",
Killing myself with "what could've beens",
Yet still finding a reason,
To say I'd do it all over again.
Poetry by Nikki
Read 867 times
Written on 2006-06-02 at 17:58
Save as a bookmark (requires login)
Write a comment (requires login)
Send as email (requires login)
Print text
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