Sometimes all that's
important is that
blank space between
then, and will be.
Sometimes you can hate
it with the burning flair
of a thousand dying stars.
Sometimes you wish you
didn't have to spend all
those hours being so alone,
Thinking that the Hemmingway
solution is actually a good solution,
or that you wish you had at least
four feet of rope and a footstool.
Sometimes when you stare
at someone who you barely
know smile, she's the most
beautiful thing in all the world.
And sometimes, sometimes
she really is the most beautiful
thing in all the world.
Sometimes though it's just
camoflauge for the sick and
twisted interior of her heart,
And she doesn't show it
until its too late for you
to have any chance at
Salvation.
And when you dream of
Happiness and complacency
with the world,
All you really see is bullets,
Pills, rope, and razorblades
Pass before sleeping eyes.
So in retrospect of that fact,
Sometimes all the pain you suffer
Is the most beautiful thing
In all the world, because
at least it's real.
Sometimes it's all too much
and your heart feels it
could burst at any moment,
Like a balloon full of Helium wandering too close
to a lamp that was left on.
YOU ARE READING
Blank Spaces
PoetryAn emotive journey through the empty places we visit but never want to see. The pain, the heartbreak, trying to see hope in places there may be none. And the secrets, and yes there are always secrets. Can you see them in this dark empty space? So it...
