Seperation

My writing really does say it. It tells what my heart longs to shout. So seperated am I, between my mind and my heart. I follow my thoughts on a daily basis, not my heart. I lock that thing away, so that it can not interfere with my normal life. I supress all the feelings and emotions to the best of my ability, letting only those that, for the most part, can not harm to the surface. At some points though, it becomes too much, and my carefully structured world comes crashing down upon me. My mind becomes an instrument for my heart, writing out what my soul only wishes it could scream. Such is the content of my art. My stories. My poems. The secrets which I hold that plug up the holes in my heart. The feelings that I do not allow myself to feel. The fears that plague my every hope. The things that shouldn't and normally are not acted upon. My heart is tearing itself to shreds, trying to release all it can, while my mind looks the other way. Such is my life. My mind and logic rule me over the day until my heart takes over during the night, spilling out my gut. What a hopeless mess.

Safe

A feeling of comfort
Nothing more
Safety is a fleeting thing

Just the way his hand felt
Pressed against mine
Finger tips entwined

How I longed for that hand
To stay close to me
Never leaving me behind

I could take on the world
With his hand in mine
Giving me much needed strength

I felt safe together with him
Oblivious to the world around
The list of issues growing in length

But a feeling of comfort
Nothing more
Safety is a fleeting thing

I thought I held him close
To the fire of my heart
Warm and here to stay

Close so that he wouldnt leave
The warmth of his hand
Slowly fading away

I felt fingers untangle
The heat begin to leave
The slip of his hand from mine own

The panic engulfed me
The fear that he would go
To leave me all alone

Don't leave me yet
I don't have my legs
Sturdy on the ground

I try and grab hold
His nimble fingers
Silently dancing around

Grasping and grabbing
Unable to hold on
To that which is not there

One last attempt
I grasp with my hand
Feeling the empty air

A feeling of comfort
Nothing more
Safety is a fleeting thing

Realizations on "The Breezeway"

So I gave that poem to my English teacher to look over and then discuss with me, and he came up with some pretty profound insights. We first went over the title of the piece itself, The Breezeway. We talked about what a breezeway actually was at first, how it is just like a hallway that allows the passage of the breeze between bulidings and such. We then however, began to take into consideration the title in relation to the poem. The poem he said, was like that of a love poem, which in a sense it was a little bit, but at the end, it turned into something a little more complicated. The verse, "It dawns on me that I will never be alone, that people such as he will always be there to see me through all times" seemed to him having more of a temporary feel to it. As if right now it's this boy, but there will always be others to take his place. And at this point, the title comes into play. The breezeway allows the breeze to come and go, never stopping or waiting, constantly passing by. In relating that to the poem, it would be saying something to the effect that boys come into my life and then leave with the wind and I assume that another one will just blow in, and so the cycle would continue. Was this poem about just another lover? Keep in mind, this is all speculation, and by no means did I intend the interpreted ideas to be reached, but it is definitely food for thought. Is some of it true?