The Heart Goes Missing

Powerful poeming and gorgeous rhymes… love, loss and broken hearts
Comments are closed. Please leave a comment on No Talent For Certainty.

No Talent For Certainty

When all the towers you could build
Come tumbling to the ground,
When all the music you have loved
Becomes just so much sound

When all that you held precious is
Dismissed for someone new,
The heart goes missing for a time
There’s nothing you can do

Instead of heartbeats, there’s an aching
Constantly, inside;
In lieu of courage, emptiness,
Where once there was some pride

They say the heart is broken, but
There’s madness in its place:
I’d say the heart goes missing;
Numbness
Filling up
The space

View original post

What They Don’t Tell You — Poetry

What They Don’t Tell You

after the happily ever after
is how fast your life turns to grey

how you lose tiny pieces of yourself
first your voice —
nothing you have to say is ever that important
next your appeal —
you look nothing like the porn chicks he prefers
then your dignity takes a walk
followed by your self-respect —

and then you awaken one day with amnesia
you don’t know who the hell you are
nor why you are in this shitty marriage —
you are alone, friendless and jobless
in a dark hole with no help in sight

Marriage should come with warning signs
bells and whistles and quick exit doors —
or at the very least, a coffin in the bedroom
to practice death upon

©January 2014, Lori Carlson

I was reminded of this poem of mine after reading Patience’s poem

What They Don’t Say

It is enchantingly beautiful and hauntingly sad… Please have a read and support her blog LOVELETTERSTOAGHOST

Everything I Gave — a poem

Whole days I lingered
Parts of me fused into you
I couldn’t distinguish
My backbone from yours
Where my thoughts began
And yours ended

Once, our bodies molded
Into one lusty union
Passion so fierce
I feared us
We blazed the world
Untamed

I would have remained
Craven unto you
A victim of your will
Forever enmeshed
In this unholy bargain
A deal struck by blood

But you had me tangled
In fishnets
Of twisted waters
I nearly drowned
My lungs filled
With your darkness

You offered no light
No life
Separate from your illusions
Everything I gave
You stole
Crushed beneath your feet

This was not love
No joining of souls
Only despair remains here

©March 2015, Lori Carlson

Amends

In the glint of your eyes

I see the reflection of smoke, rising

You study me—hands on hips

Head cocked to one side

I don’t blame you for the uncertainty—

I wouldn’t trust me either

But I’ve come to make amends

To give back to you what I stole

That night I littered the streets with your dignity

 

I hold out my hands

A small box nestled between two sweaty palms

You look down at it, your face twisted

And I can only imagine the conflict, bleating

I move my hands closer to you

Pushing the box within mere inches of your own hands

You hesitate—shaking fingers begin to reach forward

You grasp it—I move back a step

 

“What is it?”

“Open it.”

You lift the lid and the box nearly falls from your hands

“Why?”

“It was never mine to keep.”

“But I gave it to you willingly.”

“And look what I did with it.”

You look at the cold flesh lying inside the tissued box

Tears well up—you thrust the box back at me

“Keep it.”

“But you deserve to love again.”

“You’ve mangled it. What good will it do me now?”

 

I place the box on the table

Give you another glance—you cross your arms

That one motion that tells me it’s time to move on

“Take it with you!”

But you know I won’t

Poetry: From My Letter Series

A Letter to T.S. in Spring

My Beloved —

As I walk, a warm wind blows and rain hits my face
Flowers are blooming, but i pay no heed
Memories are flooding my mind
About the day everything went horribly wrong
If only I hadn’t screamed —
we would still be celebrating a life together

Instead of seeking a new job
Depression consumed me; I was deflated
I’d never been fired before —
How could I make you understand?
I nearly died that day —
I just couldn’t find a knife dull enough

The pain! The incredible pain
The humiliation, served cold
Heads hung low, so low, we went back to him
If only —
These regrets have haunted me for three years
O how I failed you! I tore us all apart

© 2013 Lori Carlson