Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
~Because

every

mistake

is

unique.
I just wish I had mine
///

Everything is separated from each other
But when you see silently
It seems all together
The day sleeps in the night as I exist in you

The born,
The death all for thee
Black or white
True or false all for thee

The continents are separated, isolated
As we are alienated from each other
But on the other hand we are all together
Apparently we are  moving toward the different direction

The dark,
The light all for thee
Silence or thunder
Melody or chaos all for thee

Either it’s a stone or an emotion
Even either love or hate,
Neither war nor peace
Neither dialectics nor mystic
All  have bent you and me

There are too many invisible divine strings
On every matter or even every non matter
yet bonded with the heaven and the hell
So, all we move toward the same destination

///
@ Musfiq us shaleheen
All we are moving toward the same destination...........
There are stories in your eyes.

I never told you how
sometimes I fell asleep
with the thought that you
were perhaps the moon-

always disappearing
with the dawn.
I would awake with
nothing
but the shape of you
on my bed and the
gloom of you on
my skin.
You & I,
are a lullaby

We're the deafening *silence

just after the crash
we are moments of happiness
that never last

We're a riddle
that has no answer
we are both the cure
and the cancer

We've read this book
a thousand times, and in our hearts
we both know this fairytale
can never have a happy ending
I wish it did.....
  Oct 2014 Glenda Lee Woodson
Sia Jane
I'm made of all;
The books I've ever read
Poems I've ever written
Faces who have smiled at me
Hugs that have wrapped around me
Caresses that have graced my inner thigh
Countries & continents my feet have touched
The lovers as we simultaneously reach ecstasy within
Lonely nights shedding tear drops
Nights gazing black skies moon & stars
Children falling asleep to my heartbeat
Animals whose soul was found through reflective eye stares
Conversations spoken in French, Spanish, Italian, Xhosa, Afrikaans, Norwegian, German
Years of ******-, cognitive-, dialectical-, art-, drama-, music-, mindfulness-, trauma-, psychiatry-; therapies
The drinks & drugs & mind altering substances dispersing my mind
In all I'm made of;
Love
Lust
Greed
Fear
Joy
Freedom
Longing
Dreams
Despair
Sadne­ss
Anger
Frustrations
Happiness
Anxieties
Insecurities....

In all I'm made of;

A soul; securely contained within a body of battled scars;
over;
pain & triumphs, losses & gains, rejections & acceptances, dishonours & accolades...

With the hope; she too, can live life through.

© Sia Jane
Written at 1.53am
  Oct 2014 Glenda Lee Woodson
MD
A girl about seven
Sits still - full of doom
It's 2 in the morning
And she's scared to leave her room

A ghostly girl with bad intentions
A skeleton made of gold
She filled the air with a cold infection
And let the people mold

They didn't believe her when she was small
So maybe now they'll listen
A ghost haunting the walls
Of a place she once called home
Next page