The Poet's Path: A Blog about Books, Poetry, and the Journey of Self-Discovery

It's like each breath comes with a condition of being alone Love's icy touch leaves me with a numb body, a mind of stone Maybe I'd tolerate the skin, but I hate it when it sinks deep into my bone. The poems can't be written without letting go of every hand I've ever known The evil is buried somewhere, or it would've been a struggle to switch the tone Why does peace come to me at the price of giving up everything I own? The wound becomes fresh every time the scar is shown Broken heart, moist eye, for sins such as this, I can never atone  You can feel me sinking daggers into your flesh, then tell me how you still condone?

I ask myself how do people love? The idea of loving someone with their flaws is so foreign to me. I can love a person, but I'd always hate their negative qualities and I know it's true for everyone And if it's not, there's something wrong with me, or something extremely right with them  Does their heart pump love while mine only pumps hate? Is their work hard while mine is just fate? Is their blood hot while mine has run cold? If we have the same hearts, why is mine impossible to hold? Does their hand crave another while mine only craves a pen? Is it wrong to yearn for solitude again and again? How does their love feel like a breeze on a hot day? While mine feels like a debt I can never repay. How do their eyes resemble stars while mine lackluster? How do they give love for love while I just feed them off like a vulture? Does their mind replay memories they love, while mine is just a misery cell? Does their recollection fade when they feel fine, while I remember it all ...

It was too late now It felt like my mind had consumed all the chaos The vexed voices mixed with shallow breaths and a loud heartbeat I'm sure nobody could tell, But I was at a war in the most peaceful places I went. Like it had swallowed every scream The blurry flashbacks of a crying child mixed with a terrifying wish to never leave the room I'm sure nobody could tell, But I was covering my ears in the quietest places I went. Like it had ingested all the violence The melancholic melody of shattering glasses mixed with all the swearing I'm sure nobody could tell, But I was taking deep breaths in the most calming places I went. Like it had sponged off all the sorrow The fake laugh decorating the dull walls with fictitious felicity I'm sure nobody could tell, But I was wiping my tears in the happiest places I went. Like it had grasped all the guilt The tears staining the pages of her favorite book mixed with the urge to blame it all on herself I'm sure nobody could tel...