A Dream of Love
(A story from my up and coming book)
The Bleeding Of Words
Oh! Where must one go to hold love.
To keep it forever, never, having to set it free.
Where will my heart lead me, as I hold on to this misery? I can barely remember what it is like to feel. What it is like to find something beyond the pains of heartache. Beyond the walls, I have constructed. Nothing feels the same, nothing tastes the same. The world has become bland in all thoughts, views, and sounds. Note even the air holds any sustenance to my life. I feel bare and empty as any attempt to feel wisps over me. I feel as if the earth is nothing more than deserted endless hearts bleeding for more than their past. More than the pain that lingers behind their chest like an itch to the back of the throat.
I look at the sun in mid evenings eye, as it casts shadows as strangers walk by. The trees pose skeleton to the cold fall. My heart feels nothing but empty rage for what I cannot have, for what I cannot explain.
The lonely sun as it begins to rest I wish to follow it. To follow it to the ends of the earth. To find a new place to rest my heart. Maybe then, I will find happiness. Maybe then, I can breathe in air that sustains my every breath. But I know that is impossible. I know following the sun will do nothing. I know finding new strangers to stare among will not make me forget you. Nothing will make me forget you. Every waking moment I am lost in our memories. Lost in memories we will never have. Like a foolish child, I played fantasy upon our lives.
I dream't of late nights between you and me. Where we lay together beneath the stars as I share stories of my life in exchange for my heart to grow fonder of you. I dream't of us laughing, turning our smiles toward each other as we take trips to faraway lands. Trips, that would lead us to become something more than friends.
But the bitter truth is…. love has no plan to keep me and I have no plan to seek.
Thank you for reading, if you enjoyed this, grab a copy of my debut book,
Popular posts from this blog
I have been writting poetry on medium, does anyone still wish me to write short stories on here?
A Wanderers Inn I have been traveling for thirty days. My horses are weak and I thirst dearly for water. My belly aches as hunger constricts my gut. I am fearful of death in such an unsuitable way. I have always seen myself dying in daring act of life. Be it in war or the saving of a child. Or maybe, even in the defeat of a dragon as I get one last blow with my blade before it strikes me down and it falls to its death beside me. Feeling its last breath of heat roll over my body as our eyes see only our fading souls. I have always thought my death would be glorious. Yet here I am, traveling alone with no more rations, nor water. My horses no longer walk with fervor but lackadaisical steps. And so I pray to find shelter before the cold takes us. Before the empty plains of barren trees and darkness finds us. I wish not to be detritus before my days. Decaying slowly to the maggots as my body lays helpless upon the earth. Becoming a gruesome vision of what lies inside. B
Not fair? You know what's not fair, that eight year old boy who who was diagnosed with cancer on his eighth birthday. The mom that has to watch her child slowly die as she prays he will survive; only to watch him take his last breath. After all those sleepless nights of pain staking chemo. All those days of watching their child go from a bundle of energy, to a pale boy of sickness. -- Life's not fair? You know what's no fair, going to work to find out you are being fired because someone holds a minority that you don't. Fired, because your skin complexion is not the right color and they need more of the other. Being fired, because the company needs more of a certain set of sex organs to help out "equality." -- Your life's not fair? You know what's not fair, those 200,000+ men who went to help eradicate the evils of Hitler. Only to die less than hundred feet onto the shore. All those sons taken from their families, all those father and mo