Two Holes from Different Shovels [a love poem]

This hollow burns me deeply,
though not thick enough to end me.
Two holes from different shovels
have fallen into one.

We never asked to be here,
miguided in these trenches
with souls that seek to fly
and hearts that bleed bone-dry.

Your voice is fraught with sorrow,
and sadly, you must go.
But this, you must take with you.
This you need to know:

I've broken all my walls down.
There's nothing left to show.
I stand here bare and aching
in this place we've come to know.

And though this world has damned us
to wallow here like ghosts
with eyes that cry like night birds
and thorns and sticks for bones,

we'll scratch straight through this hollow
and fizzle into stars,
then we can unfold softly
into each others arms.

Photo: Kisses by Marco. [Creative Commons]

Poem: Two Shovels by Serena Matthews (me)

I am a proud Helpinaut. Visit @helpie to find out more ♥

There are times when a poem falls out and it just makes sense. Sometimes it's rubbish. Other times like stars. I found this with some old poetry in a shoe box and typed it up here for you. I remember the angst crawling through my thoughts when I wrote it.

I took a picture of my notes to remind myself how beautiful it is to create words that collectively have meaning to me. Sometimes it's important to remind yourself that your words really do matter.