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Can my skin
Soft like silk
And words dripping
With unsweetened honey
Tell you who I am?
Without further ado
There is nothing
To blockade
What has been hidden.
I am vulnerable
Under such a gaze.
My heart is flaming
And my eyes are shining.
Hope is within my beating chest;
Joy is forming the smile
Stretching my lips.
Oh.
But—
Have you seen this moments ago?
I wonder—
Oh, I do.
Have you been with another?
Just moments ago
You were in so deep.
While you were gone
Did you change
The words you laid before me?
Was there hope
In the words you uttered
As we shared the time
Between the rushing hours?
You are a cryptic message.
Should I be in fear
Of never cracking
Your vicious code?
Lurking behind your corners
And tugging at my arteries
Is unsurity.
Oh, please wake me
From this dream.
False hope comes too soon
While we mourn.
Perhaps this is what
We are truly seeing.
YOU ARE READING
Hope in the Mourning
PoetryCOMPLETE ✔️ Highest ranking: #175 in Poetry! (3/15/17) - Where there is mourning, there is also hope. Despite the struggles and the losses we mourn-mental, physical, or emotional-good can come out of it. But even when there seems to be not hope as a...
