Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
 Aug 2017 Marrisa
Mary-Rose H
"The Lord appeared to us in the past, saying: 'I have loved you with an everlasting love; I have drawn you with loving kindness.'"

These words,
recorded in faithfulness
t   h  o   u   s   a   n   d   s
of years ago,
reach a hand
through time to
strike a tuning fork
against my soul,
setting praise
ringing
inside me.
I tremble with
energy
which urges me
to shout, sing, dance, cry, compose, raise my hands in the air,
or simply fall to my knees
in awe of Him;
Saviour,
Father,
Lord-

the ever-present
c
a
n
d
l
e
on my darkest days-
the unfaltering needle
pointing me to
true north
when
a hundred different opinions
clamour for my ear-
the unending ocean
of grace
and forgiveness
in times when I seem to make
nothing
but wrong decisions-
the magnanimous provider
of exactly what I
need,
though I've done
nothing to deserve it.

The one and only
Lord,
who can name each
and every star,
is
somehow
also the one
who whispered "temple"
in the ear of
a hurting
and lonely girl
to remind her
that she is precious, beloved, irreplaceable, sacred, held dear, and never,
never* alone.
It is this
indescribable,
uncontainable,
amazing God
to whom I will be
grateful
for
e
         t
                 e
                         r
                                  n
                                            i
                                                    t
          ­                                                   y
for loving me
with an everlasting love,
and drawing me
with His loving kindness.

Amen.
Jeremiah 31:3
 Aug 2017 Marrisa
Lvice
Do not tell them
You love them
Even if you do
They do care,
But not about you.
 Aug 2017 Marrisa
Lvice
it isn't
 Aug 2017 Marrisa
Lvice
Some people,
Are angelic. Graceful. Godly.
They are otherworldly
In their beauty

And others
They are hell and heaven
On Earth
Imperfect and rough
Around the edges
With witchcraft
Under their skin
 Aug 2017 Marrisa
Book Thief
It was a graveyard and overcast sky
and I sat with book and accordian in hand,
hearing the world with its screams
swallow up around me.
The people whom I had loved and lost,
Papa with his silver eyes
Mama her sharp tongue and tough love
Rudy whose hair the colour of lemons
and questioned why, the living and dead,
worlds apart, yet both did not have a choice.
I stood and screamed so that everything shook
the burning rubble and ash and dust
willing my words to bring it all back
but it did not come, and my breath rose in gasps.
Death had looked me in the eye and said,
“It’s not time yet.”
I would shut my eyes to the world
only decades later.
I will understand that there was hate and pain
there was sadness
but even more so, there was love and joy.
I will know that the people I loved had reason
to kiss goodbye
whether it was their own hurt
or saw it as a necessity,
but they were never truly gone from me
always somewhere nearby,
in the thick and thin
frail and worn
of times.
I would learn
to forgive Death that day.
I will understand that
and I will be hurt,
but I will be okay.

~

Not all deaths are sad.
Some, meant to ease their own pain,
Are called freedom.
While some,
Meant to ease the pain of others,
Are called love.


© BT
My first poem on HP.. Thank you all for reading

Edit: Words can't describe how grateful I am to be part of this wonderful community. I'm so blown away by your support, it makes my day! You all are truly awesome, and I cannot thank you enough <3

BT x
 Aug 2017 Marrisa
KRRW
I can't hold on,
I can't let go...


I keep on breathing
But each breath is suffocating.
My heart keeps pounding
But in my own blood,
I'm sinking.


I wanna hold on,
I wanna let go...


Smiling if I'm sad.
Frowning when I'm glad.
The past feels like a dream,
The future, a nightmare.


I'm not holding on,
I'm not letting go...


Here's the feeling I can't express:
There's a fret I can't suppress.
Words, thoughts
I've been screaming to you
Come back as whispers
Like I'm talking to my echo.


Tired of holding on,
Afraid of letting go...


I don't wanna die
But I keep on killing myself.
I need a reason to live.
I need the sun to wake me
From my restless sleep.


I can't hold on,
I can't let go...


Hands stuck in the solid air,
Standing on waters, crystal clear.
Hanging on to the nothingness,
Begging for help from the emptiness.


If I did hold on,
If I do let go...


If I fall deep into the sea,
I only wanted to see:
If I disappear,
Would anyone care?
Shed a single tear?
Pull me up here?


As the gravity drags me deeper...
As the light vanishes from my sight...
As the waters conceal my tears falling...


As I keep on holding on,
As I finally let go...
As I talk to my echo...
And drowning...
Written
11 September 2016

Revised
15 November 2018

Copyright
© Khayri R.R. Woulfe. All rights reserved.
caramel skin
like the sweet scent
of toffee & warm sugar
during a summer festival.

you called me exotic,
with black eyelashes
******* my even darker
raven eyes.

no other woman
could ever compare
with my soft voice,
strong principles,
and thoughtful nature.

you called me exotic.
but I wonder if you know,
I am a stranger within my skin,
within my community.

I am exotic
in an unsettling way--
halves and quarters,
of thoughts and ideas,
and never whole enough
for anyone.

my parents
are whole people
with a fragmented daughter;
to them,
I am a stranger--
I am exotic.

I am both
sickened and liberated
by my difference.

but mostly,
terrified.
Next page