Welcome Visitor: Login to the siteJoin the site

Love and Depression, and it's tolls on life.

Poetry By: Arena
Poetry



Love and Depression. Poetry on the bursting love of the heart and the irrevocable breaking of the soul.


Submitted:Nov 14, 2006    Reads: 201    Comments: 3    Likes: 0   


The Art of Breaking

Thu-thump. my heart is breaking

Thu-thump. it is beginning.

Thu-thump. my heart is breaking for you.

I remember the days

when we'd laugh and we'd cry.

I remember the hours of sharing our innermost thoughts.

I remember the time

when my world was fantasized.

I remember those minutes

of unbearable separation and lonliness.

But now that feeling is eternal

locking, binding. I try to find a way out,

but it's hopeless, and I know it.

I remember the times

when I'd cry by your side.

I remember the times

when we'd laugh at meaningless things.

I remember the weeks

when we'd write back and forth.

I remember the visits we'd pay eachother

searching for comfort or empathy.

But now those times are missing,

gone, erased from all history.

You have shown me an unbearable thing:

you have shown the your art of breaking

of torturously, painstakingly breaking.

bringing down and tearing out

all parts of my soul

you are slowly, ever slowly

eating away--

The Art of Breaking.

You are the master

of this art of breaking.

Thu-thump. �my heart is breaking

Thu-thump. �it is now ending

Thu-thump. �my heart is broken,?there's nothing left for you to do.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I know you

Are you the one?

I've seen you in dreams,

never in person,

but I know you.

Do you know me?

Is it really you?

I know everything about you,

but I've never seen your face.

Could it really, possibly be you?

Do you know me?

I want to grab you,

tell you I'm yours!

But can I fight the fear?

I never want to wake up.

Do you know me?

You're a wingless angel,

my fallen star.

your wispy features,

I adore them.

No, you couldn't know me.

You're a dream, imagination.

I see you every night.

You know nothing about me,

but I am content.

Because I know you.





0

| Email this story Email this Poetry | Add to reading list



Reviews

About | News | Contact | Your Account | TheNextBigWriter | Self Publishing | Advertise

© 2013 TheNextBigWriter, LLC. All Rights Reserved. Terms under which this service is provided to you. Privacy Policy.