Search

november child

the curse of a sentimental heart & a skeptical mind

Category

pain

Collecting Tears

What did you do
with her tears?

Did you shrug them off
with the contempt
you reserve for what
you perceive as weakness?

Did they make you
uncomfortable, when
they too clearly pointed to
the issues you are
unwilling to face?

Or did you cherish them,
every tiny drop a trophy
that you collected
as a symbol of the
power you hold over her?

 

© november child
photo credit: hadia lakhras via The Awesome Daily
The article about the Topography of Tears is fascinating!

Cold Rain

Soaked-through clothes,
a clammy chill on my skin,
the same cold
my cells have memorised
on the night
I watched you
walk away.

With the cold the pain unfolds
its multiple layers of defeat,
the same ache
your heart memorises,
once you resign yourself
to the fact
that it was almost love.

 

© november child
photo credit: Susanne Nilsson via Flickr

 

Defensive Measure

This pain, the one
right behind your eyes,
that cuts into your brain
with the force of a saw,
and slowly leaks into your temples
until it dulls your senses,
makes it hard to keep
track of life.

Over the years it
has become your shield
against words and deeds
you can’t cope with,
and a great smoke screen
to hide the bits and pieces
of life that you’d rather avoid,
a defensive measure
you’d surely miss.

 

© november child
photo credit: YouTube
in response to The Sunday Whirl Wordle #289

 

Patience

Canvas is patient
accepting red hot anger
in violent splashes,
enduring my blues
in teary streaks,
beholding black despair
in quivering brush strokes,
always silent, always forgiving
to the emotional turmoil
until it’s all but vanished
under new layers of outbursts.

© november child
photo credit: renu parkhi via flickr

Vanish

Torment

A shadow has settled
across your heart,
so dark, I am afraid
it can not be erased.

Red hot anger
has eaten away at you,
crippling you in ways
I can not even fathom.

Your torment is real,
your pain sincere,
I just wish you would see
you are hurting yourself.

© november child

Sincere

photo credit: Kevin Reese via flickr

Unsettled

In vain she waited for the phoenix
to rise from the ashes
of the years you carried off.
Instead she writes her screams
into the mess you left behind.

In vain she waited for the
frantic pounding in her chest to subside
after she rinsed you out of her system.
Instead she carves her pain
into the softness of her flesh.

In vain she pretended
to be free of  your mind games,
to have reclaimed a will of her own.
Instead she submits to the inferno
where suffering has no expiration date.

© november child
 in response to: The Sunday Whirl Wordle #267
chest/after/you/submit/date/rinse/will/free/scream/mess/ashes
and Pretend
photo credit: artist unknown

Blog at WordPress.com.

Up ↑