What Is Left Of Me - Arianna Erickson (summer books .txt) 📗
- Author: Arianna Erickson
Book online «What Is Left Of Me - Arianna Erickson (summer books .txt) 📗». Author Arianna Erickson
I can't close my eyes
Without seeing your face
Tears pour down my cheeks as your image fades away
I long for you to kiss me
I long for you to be here
But they have seperated us
I'm still here waiting
Each day brings me closer to you
Yet further apart we become
In my mind I can see you smiling at me
Then leaning down to kiss my lips
I imagine you holding me
Yet when I open my eyes
Its always good bye
Again...
Yes I'm still here waiting for you to come back to me
We're so many miles apart
You in your world
And I in mine
Craving to link our worlds back together
To build a bridge so I can find you
But my heart constricts whenever I saw your face
It did a little dance
Then shattered again when you left
You held my face in your hands
As you tenderly kissed my lips
You held me in your arms once again
Two years nearly to the day
Since I'd last seen your face
Now here you are
Stepping off that bus
Looking as handsome as I remember
Part Two:
Hope
A poem for you (November 2nd 2012)
Dedicated to Mark Katt
He is my Past
You are my now
He didn't last
But I pray you willM
y heart beats so fast
Whenever I hear your voice
I smile at the thought of you
Because you bring such joy
My beloved angel
I'll hold you forever in my heart
And in my arms you'll be
For a thousand people
Cannot take you from me
You're perfect in my eyes
There are not nearly enough stars in the sky
To count all the ways I love you
Yet I still try
Because my love
You are an angel in my mind
My Angel
I hope you never tire
Of hearing "I love you" fall from my lips
Every second of every day I want you to know it
To know that when I look at the midnight sky
I think of you
Because every twinkling star
Reminds me of you
I swear you fell from heaven
That is why the stars shine
To remind you of where you're from
A kiss from heaven with wings
An angel I could never forget
Made perfect to be my other half
A smile so bright that it blinds the sun
And a heart so pure
Gold cannot compare
A kiss from you is like
The touch of a butterflies wings
A single touch would drive me insane
With love for you
To prove my love for you is all I want to do
To be held by you
In your arms
Would be a dream come true
All I have left to say is...
I love you
Part Three:
Whats left of Me
What I was going through at the time I wrote this poem:
An ex friend of mine who hurt me, is trying to come see me and wants me in his life after what he did to me. And because of how vulnerable I was at the time he hurt me, it created an emotional attachment that I am trying to break, but even the smallest ammount of progress is amazing until he decides to contact me at that moment; as if he is, consiously or subconsiously, waiting for me to get better and start to heal before ripping open the wounds he inflicted.
I guess I could describe myself as feeling extremely numb. Part of me wants to cry; part of me wants to curl into the fetal position and sleep. Last night I was so close to cutting, the urge to make myself bleed was overwhelming. I had no computer no access to really anyone. I was lucky a neighbor of mine was home, whom I talked to, who helped to distract me, but all it honestly did was help me push the pain and urge back under until it decides to rise to the surface once more.
Nothing I seem to do ever helps. Talking about whats going on doesnt rid me of what I'm feeling, it just distracts me long enough to hide my emotions and pain and place a smile on my face. But the pain from all I've gone through NEVER dispates. Never leaves. Instead, it continuously haunts me. Some of the past pain takes longer to surface, sometimes in fazes, at times all at once. I try to fight it, but I feel powerless, without any control. I want control of my life again, heck, I WANT to HAVE a life again. The way my treats me and the things she expects of me to do in her place leave me no chance to have time for me, for friends, for much of anything really. IF I could cut right now, I might even smile, because I feel so dead and shut down, that to experience any kind of pain (especially physical), is a welcoming thought. I want something to let me know I am still alive, because I'm at the point that I just don't know whether I'm coming or going.
How I felt at the time I wrote the poem:
I'm so depressed I feel like throwing up and then curling in a ball and hopefully dying. Feeling so hollow and empty, feeling so numb and disconected from my body, reality, my mind, everything. I feel like I'm dreaming, and hoping I'll wake up soon. I feel like curling up in a ball and crying myself to sleep, never wanting to awaken to face the world.
Numb (March-18-2013)
Hollow words fall from my colorless lips
The tears want to spill down, but I try not to let them.
Empty and numb for my heart has been stolen
Along with a part of me
I never fathomed losing.
I’m scared to fall asleep,
For I see his face behind my eyelids.
I try to block it out, but my heart still wants him.
Wants the man who hurt me beyond repair
Took a piece of me that he had no right to have
Now I lie here
Feeling like I have swallowed a knife that is piercing my heart
Yet, the numbness I’m feeling hides what isn’t healing
So now even the pain cannot be felt.
I struggle to remain breathing
But it’s hard to catch my breath
My chest feels constricted
About to explode from the pressure of this madness
Of the hurt it tries to feel
It wants to feel something
I want to feel something, anything
Because at the moment I can’t tell whether or not I am dead.
The sky begins to cry above me,
Crying the tears I so long to shed
The tears that are lurking just beneath the surface
Waiting to fall when I’m weak;
The signal of my demise
The signal of my end.
His sudden want for me is sucking the life from my lips
My whole body shakes with want
For the person who stole my soul
On a cold August morn’
That left nothing but regret in its wake.
Silently I try to cry,
But I’ve waited so long the tears no longer want to fall
I’ve held onto pieces of my composure so long that I don’t know what would happen
If the months of hurt I’ve kept in
Finally came pouring down.
My pulse is slowing down
And my
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