My Love

It’s like a tsunami, but tempered, so every wave is a gentle caress,
I don’t mean to destroy anything, I just need somewhere to go,
It’s silent as well, which people thinks means nonexistent,
Everybody is so exemplary, they yell and sing and scream,
All that energy pouring out of their lungs like fountains,
That’s how you know it’s real, they say, faithful to their idealism,
So maybe it’s not real, but it’s mine, and it feels the same,
Try as I might, I can’t tune my vocal chords to satisfy them,
I wish I could, because this supposedly voluntary isolation is painful,
But I can’t, so I won’t, I’ll just sit and wait for that perfect someone,
Who understands that I can climb rooftops, but I can’t scream once I’m there

© Richela Rosales Maroto 2018

6 Comments Add yours

  1. Sadah says:

    Nicely penned.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. the pretty poems says:

    going to reblog this one for Fiber Friday today ❤

    Liked by 1 person

  3. the pretty poems says:

    Reblogged this on The Pretty Poems and commented:

    Don’t forget your fiber! Fiber Friday today and wanted to share this lovely poem by Richela Rosales Maroto from the Literati Mafia.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Aw, thanks, that’s so nice of you! ❤

      Liked by 1 person

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