When you breathe a sound that may seem like an error, a held back thought of what you'd thought you'd say next.
A breath of simple coordination with no thought of being in a sequence. A trail of thoughts that are held in an empty place. Where the voice of someone says, "come in my place."
But the place is of quiet, where you shall not seek to hide the voice of trust and belief,
That simple voice is lost in words that are always silent and eyes are heard,
That vines of trial and contemplation seek a new destination,
Of key and comfort in nowhere
Found you still
Speak no words now, you are young and still of the essence. The words in your head will always stay present.
You observed as a child and teen to try and smile but be unseen
You've looked into the eyes of many, And heard of the dens where their thoughts collided, but only to be shushed confided.
By the stones of their face,
And fire in there eyes.
The bullets of their tongue throw bewilderment,
Though only they have look and spoke to be a queen.
They have only the power to stick to the screen,
Where the script never flips and tables stay still
Where being unstable could possibly get a bad thrill,
We're saying many can say you want less by pulling on what ears you have left .
To be a mouse but not intriguing ,
To be a house of true baliefs,
To earn no reputation but be humble
To learn respiration through many fumbles
To never kill a sound with a disrupting mumble,
To ever so lightly use a face with grace To be very minding of your calling place,
To be useful of the human emotion that risks it's daily unseen devotion ,
To be heard through all the silence,
The dark in the crowd that dims the broken light,
To be and not to seek what they lean on,
To bring true revealing by clokes of healing in your understanding of saying no words,
But to always show that you have not rehearsed,
One day you will throw away the mask but still be plastered to the past and which the last words that you will and have only to speak is that,
"Nothing Means Everything."
YOU ARE READING
⏳ALL IN HER TIME ⌛
PoetryThis book was marveling for me to write. Filled with a series of poems and short stories. Simple songs and testing essays. Questions of inquiry, and basically any form of writing that holds value to me. Unexpectedly taking a turn to its meaning, thi...
