Adrianna Kjeld

Catatonic Sight

Love and heart break are both  catatonic.
Some moments will freeze you,  like a drip from the faucet. 
 Your mind draws a blank and this is what tossed it...

Imagine their lips mouthing words that play on repeat... 
With love moments like these are incredibly neat. 
But in heart break,  moments like these pack heat. 

Certain moments flash before your eyes...
with love these bring joyous smiles.
But in heart break,  they're like harsh ties.

In heart break these moments are mistakes 
but they've been raked, and raked and raked. 
Over and over and over again, they're baked. 
 
"mistakes" that took place when everything was okay. 
"mistakes" that took place when both were feeling a certain way.
"mistakes"  that weren't really mistakes until someone's head hit their pillow at the end of the day,
this is when they cried about how  perfect love isn't ever really that perfect
 then started to question if all was even worth it... 

If that were the case I could have offered some reassurance, because I thought our ship had sailed on calm currents. 

But you've shed a dim light on this situation 
which made me cry with deprivation.

I'm afraid our friendship will be a catasrophe, 
it seems like you've only got a few moments for me. 

Most of all what you don't understand 
is when you stood by side, you were my man,
I hope someone else can love you like I can,
'cause if you never want me back I hope you can find another number one fan.

I wish that I could see you. 
Feel your touch again, soft and slow not swift. 
An embrace like a hug you'd give someone you really miss 
an embrace to someone that'd wish for a kiss.

Every moment without you is torture 
It might not be true love, but I was so sure. 



  • Author: Adrianna Kjeld (Pseudonym) (Offline Offline)
  • Published: January 12th, 2018 17:36
  • Category: Unclassified
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  • User favorite of this poem: KR.

Comments1

  • FredPeyer

    Adrianna, I think that last line is what the whole poem is about. How do we know when a love is a true love? What is true love? Since love does not lie, how can any love not be true?
    I am probably off the point here, but your poem made me think.



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