Writing Poetry

I hadn't written a poem in over a year, and then a few months ago I started jotting down ideas and feelings in a journal. Today I came across that journal again, and I actually still kind of liked what I wrote. So I thought I'd share them with you. Fair warning, though, they're kind of sad. I need to learn to write when I'm happy too :)

“Lament (If Only He Knew)”

The rhythmic pounding of my heart

once gently calling out a name

that brought me comfort, that drove me crazy,

that wanted me,

now afflicting me with each cruel beat.

Wishing it would cease for just one moment,

I’m suffocating.

I’m longing to breathe, to be free

from your insensitive touch.

If only you knew the pain you’ve caused,

the doubt you’ve created,

the softened heart you tore open.

If only you cared.

Your chest would tighten with pressure,

every warm pulse rushing through your body

would remind you of the girl you once loved,

the girl you broke so willingly.

She would stay with you.

Her soft touch, her deep sincerity, would haunt you.

Your face would crash into your hardened hands

with shame, and you would break.

Your sorrow would be my recovery,

my vindication.

If only.

(joanna lynn)

“Unforgivable”

Fingertips moving ever so gently,

across her skin passion traced every curve.

Your heart enveloped hers, as your words took hold

meeting the air she breathed.

Chemistry sparked thoughts of forever,

getting lost in a haze circling dreams of forever.

Your lips pressed against pieces unmatched,

submissively giving and taking in.

Two bodies broken, divided and undone,

came together with forceful vulnerability.

Intensity held down arms stretched above,

tenderly accepting every inch of perfect imperfection.

She was lost in the rush of a moment,

your touch calming the shake of her legs

as your eyes settled on hers.

A moment once strongly held onto,

now torturing silent nights,

now hurting a heart once free.

Shamelessly walking away without regret or reason,

you left behind the one that felt you deepest,

without regret or reason.

Selfless and purely her heart reached for yours,

standing peacefully near your chaos asking for nothing.

A fleeting sensation, a passing current,

a moment given in confidence coldly broken.

Time promising memories to be replaced,

yet never to be forgotten.

Guarded against softly moving fingertips,

her tenderness readily letting go of the pain,

your callous doing.

(joanna lynn)