Canvas Heart

My heart is a canvas,
painted with stars,
a vastness that swallows worlds
and reaches from afar.
Fingertips that long
to touch the warm sun rays,
but stubborn in it's darkness,
only emptiness prevails.
Cracks in my skin,
filled with scars and empty spaces,
gouges in my life,
filled with no familiar faces.
Because even most familiar faces,
accept that all in life changes,
where happiness once lived,
it slowly dies and only apathy retraces.

Strangers look upon my face,
but even if I handed them a map,
they would throw it away,
leaving a little mess to clean up,
and a whole lot of pain. 
So I rebuild my fences,
as my skies fill with clouds,
until the moisture spills over,
and I'm back to drowning in my doubts.
Someday soon I'll find a structure,
to keep them all out

so no one can promise me a dream,
and then slowly... let me down.

I dream of laying in grasses,
to forget the world a while,
why must such simple dreams
be expanded to suit the next suitor's style.
In a world where breakfast in the morning,
becomes a tongue dipped in vile.
Where those who promise climbing mountains,
won't drive over a puddle, let alone with a smile.
Everything's a struggle,
too much to ask, how could I?

Expect people to follow through?
That's impossible, unheard of, and an unrealistic desire.

So, what now, does my canvas heart wish to find?
A cup of coffee in the morning sun,
where dreams aren't built to die,
the simple things I've come to love,
not given to be taken,
or left empty on the wall,
I guess no photos in these frames,
to memorialize empty halls, 
makes perfect sense,
when you think about it all. 

Reviews

[Everett DeValle]

I loved the haphazard use of rhyme schemes in your poem...a melancholy poem that probably reflects your feelings, in a moment of contemplation. Lovely.

[Aramey]

Thank you Dear Ev, so glad you continue to take a moment to read and enjoy :)

[Everett DeValle]

You're very welcome, Aramey. I always enjoy your poetry. :)