Reading Me…

a unknown_source_

Sober command to a shattered heart.
I am trying to read.
Pensive gaze transfixed,
content with chocolate in hand,
staring into the looking-glass of my own words…
I am trying to read.
“Evolve, Dear Heart,
Stay your course.
Steer your soul toward solitude.
The coming world is a lonely place for the chaotic.”
“Breathe, eat your reesecup and live vividly,
as if your dreams had come alive,
because they will.
His loving proposal will come in 2018.
Avoid the convention to choose differently than I did.”
“Listen to your inner voice and meditate.
It will help to prepare for losing our job in 2022,
but the transition to editor will be smoother.
P.S. the weight gain wasn’t caused by the chocolate!
It was stress, so be mindful of that too!
Sober command to a fragmented mind…
I am trying to comprehend.
Would I listen and prepare?
In that moment, if known in advance…
looking into my destiny,
mirrored by my own words…
Last bit of reesecup… song coming to an end…
All thoughts finally silent…
Time for sleep
and silently tossed the letter aside.


This poem posted for Loneliness / Solitude3WW Week No. 415Theme Thursday for February 12, 2015 – SWEETSPoets United Midweek Motif ~ Glass(es)The Tuesday PlatformMag 258, and Poetics: A poem from the future.

Please stop by to read other poems by some great poets!

Love is…


She asked me what love looked like to me
and images flooded my mind
Memories and laughter
but no words to describe

how she would rise early
so we would wake to heat
how much she would cook for her family
on her aching and old feet

or the last time she braided my hair
because I wanted it “just like yours”
that was after two jobs and all her household chores
it was her holding me the night my kids died

never once mentioning the anger she felt inside
I remembered how he slept near her casket
because she was the only love he had ever known
Winter laughter and Summer tears

All the feelings of being home-grown
She asked me what love looked like
but it is easier to describe
what love is not and it boiled inside

Love is not the smell of sex in the air
or the taste of your lips on mine
It is not the feel of warm bodies in dance
Or the sweat of bodies entwined

It is not the temporary headiness of a summer romance
or the passion of a fling after hours
Dating two or three at a time
or the feeling when someone brings you flowers

Love is not the emotion that leads to divorce
but the one that says “til death do us part”
Not the urge we find in a cheater’s bed
But the joy in “my heart is your heart”

Love is indescribable all-encompassing
sometimes fleeting love is rare
everlasting and understanding
you may barely even know it’s there

In love it will consume you
and it will be the air that you breathe
when gone it can break you
knocking you to your knees

She stood before me pacing
as she often used to do
a bittersweet smile chased the thought
if you only knew

but I relived the memories we once shared
and still pacing she asked me
I stared into her eyes and answered
“slightly out of reach”


Writing Me

I Can't Write Stories by HQHeart

a poet unrefined yet amicable
thought frivolous by the masses
a student once
confined by society’s classes
and still none of the above
a woman a mother
friend lover
a writer beyond the labels
a writer as long as i’m able
i am my pen
i am my words
i write
i fight
i free the masses
stuck in countless classes
i write because it heals
it conveys the way i feel
a portal so I know the world is real
it is all i know how to be
my mirror
through which the world sees


Posted for Writing, 3WW Week No. 411, and Me.  Please view and comment on some of the other poems posted as well!  Enjoy!

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