If you figure out the meaning of this poem, I'm sorry that it's dark. If you don't know, but want to know, then comment. But, be warned that it is rather dark.
The rivers flow gently until they start to run.
They follow a path all know, starting at an end
but few can comprehend the energy they both drain, leaving me stuck.
Wading the waning water of the second
only to lose oneself and others around them.
Thick like honey or thin like broth, it changes like the weather does.
Swimming through thick, swift, heavy waves
leaves someone tired and weak.
The first leaves me wanting and waiting for comfort and yet... Left alone
Left wanting yellow and the warm sunshine on my face
Every smile was yours Whether from me to you or you to me
Holding hands and hugs The promise to stay as long as possible
Every moment shared,
now only mine. and my heart stops and becomes heavy.
Feeling them fade from fingertips over time makes the rivers rush.
One eager to drag you in, the other wanting to calm the rushing waters for you.
Too fast to swim so one only waits for the proper time to wade in.
Watching others washing into the first river, should I follow them?
That river, calm and gentle like you were
The reminder makes my eyes burn makes the second river rise and creates rapids
I don't want to follow into the first if it pains my heart
Looking at the other river
It's vicious but still, deep and silent
Wading in will yield in a departure
From friends, from family, from a future, one could have.
but that's not what you would want, you want me in the first So I'll look away from it.
Yet they're so similar, it's easy to fall into dangerous tides rather than the calm, slow current.
One like a warm bed offering release of pain, the other
like a misleading underwater cave. Looks small and offers safety,
but can leave you without air. Slowly eating away at you and your mind from the inside.
Back at the first river...
Perhaps wading will bring you back in one way or another
Perhaps the pain in my heart will begin to be patched, like small cloth patches sewn on a stuffy.
The river calls to my broken heart, alas...
Here I'll linger till I can find myself ready to face the water.
The river flows gently, calling to me as you would. Smiling with time.
Perhaps I will sit and wait at the bank. When I can stand and wade in...
Perhaps I will wade in and find you.
YOU ARE READING
Creative writing dump
General FictionThis is a dump of almost all my creative writing I did over in my creative writing class. I've got some poems, I've got some fiction, and I've got some drama. Read it if you want, there are certain parts that are inspired by fandoms, I will make it...
