Identities hidden
In textured paraphrases
Stalked by all those words
Unsaid, Unheard
And crimson verses
Of him, For him
Throbbing with every heartbeat out of sync
And refusing to ever die
Constantly asking
(in between the lines)
Who are you?
Who am I?
In rusted confessions
Of my blind obsessions
Searching amid the silent validity
Of a love with no takers
And it wasn't him
It was all me.
Note:
This poem marks a breakthrough in more than one way. Firstly, I have accepted how I will always be writing about love and it will, more often than not, be borderline sad unrequited-love poetry. Secondly, (the breakthrough part), most of my previous verses have me (or the speaker, definitely the speaker) reaching out in the dark for a presence, for answers, for something to gain a kind of closure and look beyond the immediate circumstances of my life. But in this poem (and hopefully, in all the future ones), I'm going to turn all this pondering and searching inward, to find that answer and that closure within my own self.
Daily Epiphany: We really are stronger than we think, once we give the continuous process of underestimation a long, deserved rest. :)
In textured paraphrases
Stalked by all those words
Unsaid, Unheard
And crimson verses
Of him, For him
Throbbing with every heartbeat out of sync
And refusing to ever die
Constantly asking
(in between the lines)
Who are you?
Who am I?
In rusted confessions
Of my blind obsessions
Searching amid the silent validity
Of a love with no takers
And it wasn't him
It was all me.
 |
| Artist: Ken Wong |
Note:
This poem marks a breakthrough in more than one way. Firstly, I have accepted how I will always be writing about love and it will, more often than not, be borderline sad unrequited-love poetry. Secondly, (the breakthrough part), most of my previous verses have me (or the speaker, definitely the speaker) reaching out in the dark for a presence, for answers, for something to gain a kind of closure and look beyond the immediate circumstances of my life. But in this poem (and hopefully, in all the future ones), I'm going to turn all this pondering and searching inward, to find that answer and that closure within my own self.
Daily Epiphany: We really are stronger than we think, once we give the continuous process of underestimation a long, deserved rest. :)
True love we find in our hearts:) I guess.
ReplyDeleteHopefully, so will I. Thanks for reading. :)
DeleteIt's difficult to define love objectively ... there are smiles, and tears as well :-)
ReplyDeleteLove and objectivity don't really go together, haha. Thanks for stopping by. :)
DeleteFYI - I nominated you for the Liebster Award. You can find the post on my blog deviantwriter2.wordpress.com. Congratulations!
ReplyDeleteWow! Thank you so much, Karen. I will check it out right now. :)
DeleteWriting about love is the best kind of writing :) Have a great weekend!
ReplyDeleteI realize that most of my writing turns redundant because I mostly write the same stuff about the same thing. But then, I enjoy that.
DeleteThanks for stopping by. Wishing you a great weekend as well. :)
I feel the hurt and almost torment in this strong bit of writing. I do hope you get that closure...and keep writing even when you do...you have so much to say beyond unrequited love--and I'm a big fan.
ReplyDeleteIt's funny, I've accepted that I will always be an emotional writer as well. Not generally to do with love, but to do with emotions.
ReplyDeleteI read this and felt as if you were inside my head...
ReplyDeleteI too, will always write and draw about love... un-requited love... and I'm always looking for answers, always in the dark, always wandering, always hoping... but nothing comes up, I see no light... I see no road at all....
can you call this a life?
..this is beautiful writing... deep, sincere, just beautiful..
p.s. thanks for stopping by my blog, I appreciate the comment on my silly artwork,,, take care!