there are no tears in heaven by doorfromheaven, literature
Literature
there are no tears in heaven
ice hung from her face, dangling
off her lashes, closing her eyes for eternity.
her fingers a bitter ghost that numbs
as they glide over the cracks
silencing the unspoken screams
poised on now frozen lips,
panic should be swelling instead
of ebbing, skating away, smooth.
never would have guessed
how comforting the cold would be,
a fragile balance
so easily broken
but serene.
a walk on thin ice,
chancing life and meeting death.
I never needed to believe in heroes unreal;
the hero of my life has always been you.
you make excuses that the tears are from a movie
but I always thought they were true--
but like any superhero, you've met your villain:
a monster that stalks from within.
you're feeling tired but the burden cannot be taken off
as simply as a jacket full of holes that no longer keeps out the cold.
but this is a fight you must fight alone--
like all superheroes do (but haven't you always?).
always been reassured just by your presence
because there was nothing you could not do.
all I can say now is that I am here for you.
you can let the truth come
I recall that the weather was sunny but that may just be memory recalling happy content feelings. The air was warm with springtime cheer and the worlds was once again flourishing with life after a long, snowy winter known to these northern parts; it was nice to get out and about to stretch legs still thawing from trumping in the snow all winter between classes. Kevin and I had also been in the car for over three hours to drive all the way to see our favorite comedian. The big names never come to Northern Maine so we had to travel to New Hampshire to complete one of my lifelong dreams. I do not remember the show in much detail, but I do
Chaotic rumblings rambling through
tight corridors, smashing priceless antiques,
breaking confines within prison mines
with not a peep to tell them no.
I wonder where next they will go
and what will be created in their destruction.
Twirling in the warmth of blankets and pillows
like the snow just outside my window;
arms stretched out to either side,
stay where you are and enjoy the ride.
In our minds, we can be on a sleigh
just find us some horses and be on our way.
Snuggled up with cocoa on our laps,
when in reality we're just taking a wintery nap.
Money's tight but that doesn't mean we can't pretend
that a fire place is roaring inside our head,
break out the wine that is actually just water,
and sit beside me and kiss me just a little bit longer.
Turn off all the lights but leave the Christmas ones on,
Flip through the channels and find a soft, romantic s
Touch me, she urges,
breathlessly, reaching for his hand,
pale lighting from the moon
sneaking past the curtains and crawling
through the room. Her blonde hair is silver,
and her eyes are chasms, challenging the depths
of the sea. He has never quite known such a need,
Where? He is nervous, and his hands
have become like aliens, unknown
to even their master, clammy and
uncertain, they reach out to a destination
that seems to be growing further and further away,
like a tease who never wants to give.
Touch me where the stars reach their limits,
she brings her arms over her head, like a standstill
dance, but without the gown, bla
my land is your land. by doorfromheaven, literature
Literature
my land is your land.
The world is ours,
between waves of beige and flower-print,
indentations in the feathery snow
refers to history of past encounters
whether in peace or in war,
the circumstance is always changing.
Soft caresses of fingertips,
uncover very little information
but the anticipation gives more answers
to what we want to know
instead of hoping to satisfy some need.
The voyage is always short
but the journey is just beginning.
We see what we feel
and hear what we want to believe.
The world is ours,
but only in the moments we do not breathe.
She shoves him against the door,
tears are rolling down her face.
Pain in her eyes that he cannot describe
lips that once smiled now form a snarl.
Nails painted red dig into his skin,
fingers twisting to grab a hold of something.
He wants to reach and put his arms around her,
he wants to reassure her that everything is okay.
He should be apologizing but she knows the lies.
Right now all her eyes are asking is "why?"
She shoves him in an attempt to be strong,
but her soul has weakenedno longer does she belong.
She pulls away, closes the door,
and leaves him there as he falls to the floor.
Please come back,
but he knows she
Am I fool for wishing to know
everything that has happened in the past?
Can I mark you on my calendar
and claim you for a whole entire night?
Open your soul to me
like a book full of wisdom and mystery--
I am intrigued.
The people you miss
The people you have loved.
The people that broke your heart.
The people that have made you cry.
I want to know.
Who has touched this tender heart
that made it grow to perfectly match my soul?
The one you shared ice cr