Splitting a Soul in Two

I always wake up in the middle of the night now
Which is odd, considering that’s when I fall asleep,
But my body is sick of the tinny chirps of my alarm
And it’s decided to rely
On the restlessness of my brain instead.

They say that every day is a blank canvas
But darling, yesterday
Your lips pressed so hard the stain surely soaked through several pages.
I’ve never liked the idea of tattoos
But what else do you call this ink on my skin?

There was always too much space in your heart,
And too few things to fill it with.
So please, write me into your heart
Soย that I may not have to tear mine apart writing you into my poetry.

That night on the way home, it began to pour,
And I wondered how raindrops knew
To fall into my eyes exactly,
Because I don’t remember ever opening up to the sky
And I’ve never asked it to open up to me, either.

Recently, I’ve been thinking-
I think I’d rather dwell on memories set in stone
Than create new moments I try my hardest to forget.
I know backwards is not the way to go,
But maybe if I flip the world around
It won’t seem so wrong.

So tell me again,
How the moon tore a hole in the sky
Just to peer down at the Earth,
And stars gather in clusters
Just so they don’t have to go at it alone-
Maybe then I won’t feel so lonely.

Please, show me how to sew myself together,
Becauseย all I know about needles is
Trickles of blood from piercedย skin.

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45 thoughts on “Splitting a Soul in Two

  1. vishal4u says:

    So tell me again,

    How the moon tore a hole in the sky

    Just to peer down at the Earth,

    And stars gather in clusters

    Just so they donโ€™t have to go at it alone

    This line my friend stole my heart. lovely poem

    Liked by 4 people

  2. erbiage says:

    Inspiring. Sad. Strong words for a moment of weakness. Interesting what the reader brings. At first when all I had was your title, I thought: that is every birth. Glad I read on. The pen tattoos the pages with such potential.

    Liked by 1 person

    • Heartbeatingwings says:

      Thank you for your comment! What’s interesting is that I actually mentioned using thread in another one of my poems ‘Cracked Porcelain’ where I wrote “And when she tries to sew the pieces together with a thread of her strung faith, she pricks her fingers with the needle;”.
      A lovely idea though – is there a way to sew up a tear without a needle?

      Like

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