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betwixtthepages — Forging Foundations
Published: 2018-05-16 19:00:14 +0000 UTC; Views: 437; Favourites: 75; Downloads: 0
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there is part of me that knows these walls
in the same ways I know
unrequited was the dream I used to tie my strings to,
unrequited was the hope I used to fill myself up,
unrequited is just a word I used to be friends with
because you've crooked your fingers
into the hooks of my jeans
and you've hooked my heart,
dangling, a stranger to safety
learning how to let someone lead--
there is a piece of me that fears these feelings
like I fear insects that sting, like I fear wildfires that rage,
like I fear porcelain dolls
with cracked faces and scarred chests
because so far in this life,
all the beautiful things I've ever held
have come to me broken, or been forgeries...
strange heart I never dared hope to meet:
keep adding bricks to the mortar of my veins, please;
requited is a house I'm trying to build around myself
and you have made a stronger foundation out of me.
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Comments: 10
oh this line 
"requited is a house I'm trying to build around myself"
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Oh, wow - such a wonderful, beautiful piece of writing
You are still simply brilliant
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So touching and challengingly inspiring. You have a way of making such a masterpiece seem easy, no wasted words or overly flowery concepts (like I am prone to using), just utterly and astonishingly TRUE to your feelings. I fear I don't trust my feelings enough to bare them so boldly. You make your reader FEEL what you feel with mesmerizing grace, and to me that is the ultimate goal of poetic expression. Seeing this drives me to improve and create. You give me a glimpse of what I want my own works to do, and prove it CAN be done. Besides, my own romantic tendencies exult in the hope that this shows and I find my self rooting for your new "house" to stand strong and your fears be assuaged by the balm of true love.
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Thank you so so much, hon! I am so very very honored that you find me/my words so utterly poignant and inspiring.
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oof.
this sits in my chest and aches (and you write so well, Elizabeth)
odd we should write of walls, different as they may be,
within such a similar amount of time.
listen, survivor, don't go completely blind.
there are still forests in your soul
and i'd hate for you to miss yourself.
when the sudden flutter of wings breaks the silence
and the trees sprout at tremendous speeds
you'll find the moss-covered graveyard to bring you a different warmth
one that won't exist if your walls become a sphere.
<3
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Oh, no worries at all my love! I'm not going blind--very much the opposite, actually.
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good
i look forward to hearing more of your word weaving <3
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