My heart remains as empty as the dark canyons of your spirit.

If not for your words I’d be blind to your thoughts; for they are forever hidden from the eyes of onlookers. If not for your actions I’d be blind to your thoughts, for it seems as non existent as you say your soul to be- but I know otherwise.
With black pits your mask your eyes, all pain covered in masquerade. So I camouflage myself and bottle all emotion to mirror the image of love and devotion.
But you open the cap to my feelings and as they overflow like raining blood I ask, Why do you cause this flood? Why do you care, why even dare when no one knows of the history and no one asks of theses mysteries?
I’m not an attention seeker, yet I don’t want to be left in the dark. Us… the spotlight? no, because it would not be of the world’s but of our world, but no… The black pits shall be all they see, not of the care you have for me… And these voices yell relentlessly: “Is it true what no one knows? Or is this love as fabricated as the life you so desperately seek?” “Is this real what no one sees? Or are these thoughts as fragile as your mind?” The voices call to me…
Keeping my heart as empty as the dark canyons of your spirit, yet as full of emotion as your black pitted eyes. My eyes may as well be the same…
For I show no emotion to those who ask and I feel that I’m fading fast…
Fading from humanity…
Closer to insanity…
Pleading for forgiveness for love without insecurity. Imploring your attention to have others see our affections to relieve my selfish tensions so I won’t give in to these voices’ intentions…
If not for your words I’d be blind to your thoughts, if not for your actions I’d be blind to your love; But i’m not blind….
So why do I feel guided by the white cane these voices have provided, leading me to the draining and pouring out of my impure blood?
Well, this is why I camouflage myself and bottle all emotion to mirror the image of love and devotion.
I call for help, for me from you… For us together?
I don’t know if I’m really doing so or if my mind is weathered…
I don’t know if the thought love is helping, or if its my soul melting…
I don’t know if these voices are trying, or if I’m just dying…
Well… time to try to close the top …
At least until these voices stop.

A poem I wrote called “The Overflow” copyrighted ^_^

The Overflow

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4 thoughts on “The Overflow

  1. johndwm says:

    Anyone who has known the depths of despair that can emerge from within a love that is thwarted or corked or balked – will identify and love this poem. I also very much like a poem that is written in prose. I knew its poetry because of your rhythm and sonorous asonance – rather than any obvious line structure – and because of the way the end returned to the beginning – almost!

    • azaleajones says:

      Thank you so much for noticing!! I have been writing more an more lately and just love how poetry conveys imagery- this is how I communicate!

      • johndwm says:

        glad you knew I knew. Its many years since I was burned by these tormants but thay are as real as yesterday or tomorrow so I adore the poetry that evokes the nuances of grief, passion, desire, hurt, hate, ectasy, suicide you know what I mean. If youve been there you know there and in many ways for me its the realest place in the world.. it sort of sums it all up!

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