At times I feel like I don't belong anywhere.
Always having to prove the goodness of my heart,
And my intentions.
Your dislike for me becomes a dislike for myself.
How do I stop your thoughts from clouding, and becoming, mine;
Ingested and digested but never excreted.
Too much waste for one person to carry (around).
To you, my exterior is like a cactus.
But to me, on the inside, I am the plant without sunlight:
Fragile.
© shellyhu
Saturday, 19 February 2011
Saturday, 5 February 2011
Crickets In My Bed
Sometimes I cannot breathe,
Oftentimes I cannot sleep.
And I wonder...
My heart tells me I loved you first.
According to them He was there before,
And I wonder if my heart is big enough for the both of you.
You are all consuming and I want it this way.
I have names for you: Friend. Lover. Husband. Soulmate.
But I am promised to someone else - that is what they tell me.
Humanly speaking, you are the closest person to me.
Yet, at night, when the lights are out and my bed remains cold
I speak to Him.
There are fragments of me that you are not privy to.
I feel the need to hide the smallest parts of me,
And offer them as proof that He has all of me.
Am I kidding myself?
His message of Love is how my life should be;
Everything else is just a mass of confusion.
I feel myself changing and within the deepest parts of me
Metamorphosis is painful.
My throat aches from holding back the 10,000 tears
That threaten to drown us both.
I feel like I'm fighting for the three of us,
And I wonder if my heart is big enough.
Sometimes I cannot breathe,
Oftentimes I cannot sleep.
And I wonder...
© shellyhu
And I wonder...
My heart tells me I loved you first.
According to them He was there before,
And I wonder if my heart is big enough for the both of you.
You are all consuming and I want it this way.
I have names for you: Friend. Lover. Husband. Soulmate.
But I am promised to someone else - that is what they tell me.
Humanly speaking, you are the closest person to me.
Yet, at night, when the lights are out and my bed remains cold
I speak to Him.
There are fragments of me that you are not privy to.
I feel the need to hide the smallest parts of me,
And offer them as proof that He has all of me.
Am I kidding myself?
His message of Love is how my life should be;
Everything else is just a mass of confusion.
I feel myself changing and within the deepest parts of me
Metamorphosis is painful.
My throat aches from holding back the 10,000 tears
That threaten to drown us both.
I feel like I'm fighting for the three of us,
And I wonder if my heart is big enough.
Sometimes I cannot breathe,
Oftentimes I cannot sleep.
And I wonder...
© shellyhu
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