I wrote this to illustrate the fact that I am fully aware that I with hold my feelings too often, and I can imagine the damage that does, not only to myself, but to the people that are waiting to hear how I feel.


Too Many Loves Go Unheard

There's somethign in the way she says your name,
more than a tender tone,
the sound rebounds between your heart and the wall,
leaving just enough love on your ear,
that you will forever find her voice in the trees,
where the wind has swept up,
all her sweet nothings,
and it will lead you to dream...
There's something in the way this woman sees you,
more than a sight full of faith,
she sees gentle things for the future,
a chance to be born of love again.

There are reasons though that she feels,
so undeserving,
posessed by a soul that never sleeps,
it has created for her this illusion that,
the eyes that look her over are justified,
even after they have seen,
every dark thing,
and swank perversion they hide behind.

There's something about the way she lets everything go,
to her heart before her head,
that suggests all she says in genuine...
and while you try to catch her words here and there,
between the breeze and the time it takes to hold your breath,
a novel of beauty has been spoken aloud.
Her whispers that dance upon your muted ears,
say so much more than you will ever know.

There really isn't anyone who could understand,
what damage you have brought by your silence.
Only a woman left with too much to say,
stands in the wake of your desperation.
Alone she is,
to swallow the words,
which were hushed and then written,
never finding thier way to the one for whom,
they existed...
and they lie with you as they grow more stagnant,
which each regret that passes.
You know the dream your lover placed in the trees,
will sing again when the light fades...
and all that is brittle with doubt will pass away.
There's something to be said about,
a person who can live with themselves,
knowing they will always live without,
enough ways to ever say,
just how much of you they are loving,
or counting on to chase away all your reasons,
for disbelieving.



Poetry by Nikki
Read 722 times
Written on 2005-09-20 at 00:37

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chasingtheday The PoetBay support member heart!
typo in the first line with something. a good piece, i think we all withold ourselves at times, to protect ourselves, but too much of anything can be harmful. again her as i mentioned in someone ele's poem, the use of ... at the end of lines when not needed, they are used to express a continuation of a thought without actually writing the thought, but i keep seeing people use them where full stops would serve better.
2005-09-20