Your Poetry Dot Com

Welcome to Your Poetry Dot Com - Read, Rate, Comment on, or Submit Poetry. Browse Poetry Forums, or just enjoy other parts of our poetic community.
One of the largest databases of poetry on the net, now over 198,500+ poems!

Poems On Site: 198,500+ Comments On Poems: 427,000+ Forum Posts: 105,000+

Custom Search


Welcome !	Home · FAQ · Topics · Web Links · Your Account · Submit Poetry · Top 30 · OldSite Link	22-November 10:55:47 AEST

Menu

· Our eBay Store

· Error Submit

Poetry

· Submit Poetry

· Least Read Poems

· Members Listing

· Old Site Post 2001

· Old Site Pre 2001

· Poetry Archive

· Public Domain Poetry

Stories

· Stories (NEW ! )

· Submit Story

· Story Topics

· Stories Archive

· Story Search

Community

· Our Poetry Forums

· Our Arcade
100's of Games !

Site Help

· FAQ

· Feedback

Members Areas

· Your Account

· Members Journals

· Premium Sign-Up

Premium Section

· Special Section

· Premium Poems

· Premium Submit

· Premium Search

· Premium Archive

· Premium Topics

Fun & Games

· Jokes

· Bubble Puzzle

· Cross Word Easy

· Word Hunt

Reference

· Dictionary (Rhyming)

· Site Updates

· Special Content

Search

Top

Help This Site

· Donations

Others

· Moderators

Our Other Sites

· Embroidery Design Store
· Your Jokes
· Special Urls
· JM Embroideries
· Public Domain Poetry and Stories
· Diamond Dotz
· Cooking Info and Recipes
· Quoof - Australian Story

Social

Red Lights and Stop Signs

Contributed by avriljunkie on Thursday, 20th January 2005 @ 11:45:24 AM in AEST
Topic: selfstruggles

The whispering chants of the heater ceased. You constantly turn mine off in the morning before I’m prepared to have it shut off. You do it because you know I’m unable to dispute with you while sleep is taking shelter within me. So now I can hear the whirl of the fan that I must have on. Something about the noise pacifies.

Perhaps that’s only me.

You walked towards me, carried that glass of water you brought with you so you could make sure I took those unbearable antidepressants. If only you understood how much I despised them. How heartrending it is to be weighed down by the baby drama as I feel my sanity seeping back into my body, flowing through my veins, making me whole again.

I reached across what seemed like the universe, and flipped the switch to the heater back on.

I shoved my head underneath the blankets, pushed myself against the bed and pillows. Placing my feet upon the cold, wooden floor would mean killing sleep and facing the dawn. There are some mornings when even I couldn’t cope with the monstrosities that laid ahead.

But slowly, I rose from my asylum, dressed my somnolent body and dragged my feet out the door. My breath took shape as I exhaled.

I gripped the gray, cracked leather steering wheel, which was so cold that my hands felt like they were on fire, and I cursed. (I blame Hypnos for stealing my peaceful sleeping habits).

There wasn't much gas in the tank. But I drove.

Purposefully ignoring the orange and pink tinged palette of the sky. Unaware of how the colors bled together, how the dark morning clouds melted into the sun that was barely peeking above the horizon.

Sleepy eyes tell no secrets, show no emotions, and burn at the sight of red lights and stop signs.

Copyright Â© avriljunkie ... [ 2005-01-20 11:45:24]
(Date/Time posted on site)

Advertisments:

Previous Posted Poem | | Next Posted Poem

Sorry, comments are no longer allowed for anonymous, please register for a free membership to access this feature and more

All comments are owned by the poster. Your Poetry Dot Com is not responsible for the content of any comment.
That said, if you find an offensive comment, please contact via the FeedBack Form with details, including poem title etc.

While every care is taken to ensure the general sites content is family safe, our moderators cannot be in all places; all the time. Please report poetry and or comments that are in breach of our site rules HERE (Please include poem title or url). Parents also please ensure that you supervise your children well when they are on the internet; regardless of what a site says about being, or being considered, child-safe.

Poetry is much like a great photo, a single "moment in time" capturing many feelings and emotions. Yet, they are very alive; creating stirrings within the readers who form visual "pictures" of the expressed emotions within the Poem. Â©

Opinions expressed in the poetry, comments, forums etc. on this site are not necessarily those of this site, its owners and/or operators; but of the individuals who post items to this site.
Frequently Asked Questions | | | Privacy Policy | | | Contact Webmaster

All submitted items are Copyright Â© to their submitter. All the rest Copyright Â© 2002-2050 by Your Poetry Dot Com

All logos and trademarks in this site are property of their respective owners.

Script Generation Time: 0.052 Seconds. - View our Site Map | .© your-poetry.com