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evan m horetsky

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Popular Poetry (Action/Thriller)
  1.  Loss
  2.  Hearts on Fire
  3.  Womanhood
  4.  Falling
  5.  Body Quakes
  6.  Hope Reawakened
  7.  Seamless Breath
  8.  Have I told you I LOVE YOU today?
  9.  The red ink flower tree
  10.  Quandary
  11.  The Shredding Machine
  13.  Fly by the Moon
  14.  True Friends
  15.  Funny limericks
  16.  spiraling
  17.  Inevitable
  18.  Scumbag Satan
  19.  Entanglement
  20.  Bubble Slaves

Working Out a Cure
by evan m horetsky
Monday, June 15, 2009
Not rated by the Author.
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Recent poems by evan m horetsky
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           >> View all 121

 I don't care about this ship setting sail tomorrow, Find me a way instead to subdue this sorrow. 

I sought a love I tried to steal, 
In truth I find out how I feel. 
I know now two hearts make up my whole world, 
Now mine lay parted. 
So sore from the past, from falling so hard fast, 
Now the old floor suddenly gives a cold heart back.
For the air is thick with folds of friends, 
Striving to mend a tie that would not bend.
And in the end I lay barren, 
Devoid of a coy thought, caring. 
Swearing I will never share parts with another, 
"Love" will never, ever be discovered. 
For it is buried deep in dark affliction, 
I hurry wholeheartedly to halt this addiction. 
But you awoke me girl, 
grabbed firm and choked my pain, 
Soaked my trained defenses with caring. 
Thoughts now slain. 
That empty feeling in my stomache, babe, that was love, 
Filled with fear now, not knowing what i've become. 
I can't think straight with the heart beat in my brain, 
Telling me that maybe somewhere love remains, 
And maybe somewhere is where you lay yourself at night, 
Bring me there, it has been a while since I have felt alright. 
And we both can melt all night within each other's warm glow, 
Or stand alone in thoughts unknown as mental storms grow. 
Can you feel our thunder? 
Duck and cover or find another to huddle beneath some safety, 
Instead I run away for fear that caring just might save me. 
But my bearings will not behave, see, as again I stumble, 
Be my brace, allow me to save my space in time's slow rumble. 
For goodness gracious I stood in spaces marked with blue wheel chairs, 
And felt belonging or a strange longing, hoping someone will care. 
Did I try hard enough to not cry about this stuff, That I lost my way in corporate hustle? 
Or is this feeling just so rough that unloosed will be these cuffs, And I'll find freedom in the body's biggest muscle?
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