...

It's hard to describe, when you don't know what it is.

It's like your heart is being played,
Played out as sound,
Sound that you never thought could be made,
Sound so special,
You thought it was just a dream.

It's like spilling your thoughts,
Thoughts that had no words,
As if they were made of pure emotion,
Emotion that rips at you,
One limb at a time.

It's like being stuck,
Stuck in an invisible web,
Stuck so tight you can't get out,
But so invisible,
You have no idea what your stuck for.

It's like dreaming a dream,
A dream that makes so little sense,
It barely feels like a dream at all,
Just an empty hole,
Where something should be.

Reviews

[Jeffrey Gershom]

I had to read this poem several times. It could be interpeted in different ways. Yet, I felt that I had to try to understand it within your eyes.
It seems that the heart is full of much love, but the mind is so overwhelmed that it can't find the words to express it. The feeling is so powerful to you're bound by its pull that tugs at every fiber of your being. Then you wonder why you feel this way because there is doubt about if it can come true. Then the empty hole is a blank page staring back at you saying, "Fill me up with your emotion!"
I'm not sure but is cents a misspell for sense?
If my interpetation of "..." is wrong, forgive me, but I guess poems talk to people in different ways.
I enjoyed your poem very much:) It's like....I relate.