Don’t underestimate me A seemingly a meek exterior I have a heart But I have a mind, I have fire I care deeply A fighter. I am.
When you're here;
I know I'll be fine,
You make my world;
Light up again.
You make me;
Feel free from time,
In my world;
When you laugh;
Your fingers curl,
Around my own,
You're in my world.
I'm a promise, an apology, a gift and a hope
Desired with bold colours, I reach towards the light
Helping to hide tears, hoping I find a true smile,
A beautiful, intoxicatingly simple delight
Accompanied frequently with a stroke of a pen
And embellished and glorified by ribbon & prose
I'm his tribute, his gesture, his hope and his love
I'm a glimpse of forgiveness, requited true love,
I am the rose, his rose
Staggering; his uncanny ability To exude confidence To lead me into a ravenous dance With feigned confidence He enchanted me
Hopeful eyes sparkle, Togetherness with hands entwined, Moments and kisses seem eternal, Survival in love, hearts combined; Adored
A poem from the point of view of post-break-up, trying to choose to move on.
It would be so easy to hate you
Or the way you make me feel
The way you make it all okay
Whilst my heart breaks
- But I can't
It would be so helpful to be angry
Or shout and cry out and kneel
The way I forgive you on sight
Whilst my heart breaks
- But it isn't
Free-written poetry, survival through moments of depression and the hope of escape as life resumes.
Pain just seemed to happen to her she felt nothing. It was part of the process, part of the cycle,
Just something to endure.
Where words failed and help too distant.
When the fear overwhelms and invades all senses,
A soliloquy written for puck; her love for oberon. Excerpt From an original play: 'Cubed'
A soliloquy showing Puck's love for Oberon. From an original play: 'Cubed'
Our love is as a melody; once magical – now mundane.
If he could simply take his time to listen, truly listen to the words with his heart he should find what he fell for, what enchanted him about our song.
He loves me not, but my heart holds me to his will at least a while longer. I cannot work my charms upon him, he is immune to such trickery, and I could not live with myself, nor not with him neither if he were not to be authentic in his love.