I Write In My Grave | Short Poem No. 110

I write where I passed. . . I write in my grave.
I write in passing. . . there’s naught I can save.
Writing can sometimes rekindle my gall.
Can writing sometimes rekindle a crawl?

Would you ditch me here in this tomb to rot?
You observed me carefully mark my spot.
I sunk in sin, duped by a false lover.
What love grants you to die for another?

I write in my grave
Photo by Josh Miller on Unsplash


I grew in sin, became a false lover.
False love robbed you of me to another.
What’s reckless, what’s not. I deserve it all.
But cautious love will seize me when I fall.

I lie in my grave. . . I whisper your name. . .
Remind myself that love’s always the same.

Sometimes, My Only Friend

© Jonathan Pines and WritingWithStrangers, 2019, except where noted otherwise. All rights reserved.

Sometimes, My Only Friend | Poetry Remix 41

I hide in music. . . sometimes, my only friend.
Or poems, with my second friend, a pen.
They ease me to shut my eyes. . . drift away.

Your love for me is clear in lucid words.
But when you’re missed, there’s no words for the hurt.
Sometimes, solitary, I weep alone.

Please take away the way I feel, I pray. . .
Please take away this pain, every day. . .
Take away the way. . . take it all away. . .

sometimes, my only friend
Photo by Mak on Unsplash

I hide in the shadows, under your wings.
I hide when I muse too much about things.
But you’re always here, and that’s what consoles. . .

Will My Heart Bleed Through Pen?

© Jonathan Pines and WritingWithStrangers, 2019, except where noted otherwise. All rights reserved.

Will My Heart Bleed Through Pen? | Poetry Remix 38

Today, anew, will my heart bleed through pen?
I thought I omitted these notions from my head.
My heart’s ajar on sheets I mark. . .
Paper cuts. . . pierce through me like a dagger.

Memories prick under calloused skin.
In hardened souls, feelings still run thin.
You will own my heart spilt on this paper.
And in quiet, you’ll perceive my whisper.

will my heart bleed through my pen
Photo by Kevin Mueller on Unsplash

I feel it leave. . expressions from my heart.
This release recalls emotional hurt.
Should I stop? Leave my hardened heart behind?
Tomorrow will tell. . If I’ll write next time. . .

I Crave to Kiss You

© Jonathan Pines and WritingWithStrangers, 2019, except where noted otherwise. All rights reserved.