Bitter Hearts…

I was at peace, peace I hadn’t known in a long time for I knew what her answer was already.

It seemed to be written all over her face, reflected in her eyes and imprinted on her heart

we were soulmates, united together

lover birds swaying in the clouds

wings stray and also proud

promises made without a doubt

and yet… I still feared for her just like the rest before her

for mine was bitter a heart fueled with anger and fear.

Day 6/52

Hello world, what’s much better than beginning your Wednesday morning with a poetry piece? you seem pretty today, you give me this scent of perfection and comfort that all will be fine… I wish it’ll be. Sometimes knowing that I have you holding out for me makes me feel at peace, and others… well others you make us survive through, probably one of the reasons we hold back whenever something important, or great comes into our lives.

I wrote this piece late last year, thinking about beautiful memories that come by our way, only to last almost a whole lifetime in a nick of a second, and then leaving us defenseless. The moments that bring us happiness only to be taken away. The world giving us so priceless people, only to hide them from our eyes. It breaks us I must say… But the process gets to take a toll on us over time, and before we know it, itself creates a kind of immunity to us. By the time we pick up pieces of us that have been exposed together, we’d have built up walls so high for anyone to climb, not even for us to escape.

This reminds me of back in the days when my lady held back a lot, she used to tell me that she doubted she’d feel a thing… for me (like seriously, how can anyone fail to feel that in my presence🤔😁😁) she was so scared of what would become cause of her experiences. I must say she held back for quite sometime😂 glad she walked past it. Are you that kind of person? I must admit I used to be for sometime. Yes, even free souls like mine get pinched hard by the world.

What seems to make life much more harder, is meeting people meant to put all the pieces into place, people meant to make everything make more sense, to make you feel so right, that it’s ok to be broken and get fixed, but you find it hard to give in cause of your past experiences, that’s hard.

Often times, despite the satire, charisma, fun, meter, diction and other tools that drive poetry, most if not all of it is mirrored from life and all it’s surroundings. Every poet draws from a certain source of nature their inspiration, and all of it reflects distinct aspects of life. Some love mirroring life itself, politics, philosophy, imitating death, agony, others love, ego, hatred, some go dark-mode (I love this term a lot, but basically I mean dark poetry) and others… well others choose different kinds of sources.

And.. we all have that which we are good at, one we love drawing from often, by now I believe you can always point out what mine reflect. Point is, poetry reflects life in all aspects. What do your works reflect? what is your source? what aspect of life do they represent?