Plastic Bottle With Lights
November 12, 2011
You said we’d talk
And still the lonely silence
Is the most I’ve heard
A silence I’m getting used to
Imposed by the guards of this prison
If it’s because I have leprosy
Or because they do
I don’t know
So another try
Putting this message
Into this bottle
Not a pretty romantic bottle
But an ugly one made of plastic
That has lights
Done so
In hopes that
I won’t lose another
In hopes that
Somehow there’s a reason
For your painfully obvious absence
And hanging on
To the little bit of hope
That maybe it’s not as bad as it feels
Because it feels like I’m losing you
At a time when I need you the most
Which you would know all about
If you would just
Fucking
Call.
~wbv
Displaced
October 7, 2011
Home is not home
Oh well of poison water
Left on a doorstep
Outcast, displaced
The outside is quiet
The inside is dark
Left to decay
Abandoned, Forgotten
Nobody knows it
Nobody cares
Selective ignorance
Unknown, unimportant
Bright eyes shine
The quest to be known
Ends in disappointment
Unfulfilled, thirsty
~wbv
I Believe In Love
September 28, 2011
I believe in
Love.
Do you
Believe
In harmony?
I’m giving you
My melody.
The quiet song
Inside of me
Is tearing
Out my
Heart,
And giving it
To One and Three,
When Two
Still has
A piece of me,
The scattered tones
I cannot keep.
I believe in
Love.
~wbv
Ocean
September 17, 2011
Ocean of grays
Deep dark and blue
My soul was made
To melt into you
Stranded without you
On a heap of dry land
This dirt, this drab
It’s not who I am
I am sadly displaced
In a waterless hole
Where the youth of the heart
Seems to quickly grow old
And to die a quiet death
In this god-forsaken place
Where your surface can’t be touched
And I can’t see your face.
~wbv
I Am A Worm
September 2, 2011
I’m a worm, a snake,
Living under the ground.
I’m tolerated,
Because I don’t make a sound.
Surface dwellers bask,
In the freedom they give,
To the ones who aren’t shackled,
By the lies they must live.
The darkness they love,
Those dwellers of the night,
In the shadow of truth,
Created by light…
Their hearts, lined in hate,
Full of love for their own,
While the wounds that they cause,
Will never be shown.
Because worms and snakes
Live under the ground.
They are tolerated,
Because they don’t make a sound.
So the wounds grow deeper,
The coffee grows stronger,
The happy surface dwellers,
Will gloat a little longer,
Living out their lives,
Never hearing a sound,
From the worms and the snakes,
Living under the ground.
~wbv
