Muse |
Muse |
There's a fire in my heart, And it has ripped us both apart. There's a fire in my soul, And it's burned a dark, ugly hole Right to where the eye used to be That could always perceive your beauty; The way your smile lit up the room, But it melted and now that's gone too. The smell of your hair, The love in the air, The way you held me every night Even after you turned out the light. Remember before I set this fire ablaze, Caught your mirage in the haze; Stared at you until my eyes went coal Stoned and drunk on all that is cold But nothing worked. Instead everything hurt. You were the one who knew me to my core, How to heal all my sores. Save one. The fire that burned so bright that I Couldn't control it. Couldn't hold it. Couldn't quench it. I never meant it. What I said. What I did. How I went. How I hid. There was a fire in my heart, And it ripped us both apart From this life to the next. There was a fire in my soul And it burned a dark, ugly hole Right where the eye used to be, Reflecting the eye that I could see Pointed at my chest And with every heaving breath I screamed. But this time it took me and I went. Because my life was all spent On reaching a recovery that I couldn't achieve Or one that I couldn't see. I should have told you Maybe I can still hold you Still as you shake in the night After you turn out the light. Again. You'll pretend you knew And that there was something too That you noticed About how I never spoke of this. And as you stand in the black Realising I'm never coming back You'll bow your head And whisper instead: "If he could have talked to me We would be looking at an end To a happier story." Copyright © 2019
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A hand around the waist Makes a longing feeling quelled, A belonging feeling swelled; Oh what it is to be wanted, Desired, admired, and all those sweet Yearnings of the heart that rise and fall With reminders from romantic films, Tearful music so expressive, dolce, and Cantabile are like made up words, Meaning nothing at all, but the tone Means the world. Tell me you love me One more time. Wild imaginings once dreamed in a teenage Mind. The gap all too easy to fall behind. Fantasy men marching in their black jeans and loose ties, shoddy but cute to the eye. The school girl thrill. The chase all but a ruse Or a rush to get a kiss at the price of an ego Too under-developed to call mature. Boys in their blazers, too unsure of their own aspirations to call on any relation with you. A dream of Disney: the handsome and the royal Are not real. Dream on or forget that yearning. Bury yourself in your learning. Music unites the soul of one healing And the other cold; Waiting for the moment, So many deemed wrong. Unknown to the other as parts of the unwritten song. Words unsaid yet uttered as projections, A something never quite explained. Or explainable. Retrospection is the only looking glass To hear the true music, united in Time. The clock ticks on in tempo, The evenings roll on in separate lines, Parallel and unheard, silent aberrations of the Fledgling thoughts. Flying away to learn to Think. The words used in their artful form, The music of communication, intonation still Lingers. A thinker remembers impressions; Expressions from a year gone by. Who knew you would remember me, And I, so frustratingly forget my fantasies, Since condemning them as such, Giving me nothing but a silent wish, Sentenced to dream and imagine the impossible. But here you find me, revive me, and, Upon the wave that dives ever deeper, We become each other's keeper. Originally written in 2018, age 22
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AuthorSamantha is a doctoral researcher researching the power of figurative language in advertising, social media, and mobile technology. Copyright © 2022
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