Be still my heart
allow the night
to pacify
this
ache.

For the time
to pass
knowing that
there is a void
HURTS–
Like a wound
open and
bleeding out–
Your hands
up in the air
STILL–
I hate that
you do this
to me;
I hate that
my pain
is alive
AGAIN–
For time
to pass
knowing that
there is nothing
REMAINS–

Your eyes
Burn like
Cigarettes wild
Into my
Soul and
Out of
My heart.
Why must
Your eyes
Keep me
Still burning
Like wild
Dreams?
To yearn
For one
Single touch
Allowing me
The pleasure
Of looking
Into your
Soul.

Original Poetry © 2009 Mishelle O. Lane
This is {NaBloPoMo}

This entry was posted on Thursday, November 5th, 2009 at 12:00 am and is filed under NaBloPoMo, Poetry. You can follow any comments to this post through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.