Poetry

What Gets Me Part Two

“Darling, it’s your eyes,
they remind me I’m worth loving.”

It’s the silence that gets me. The coldness of it. That seeps through my skin and freezes me to the floor. As if I’m a permanent structure. A stone sculpture. The remnants of what broke me so long ago. In those moments, my heart hurts so much that I feel like every cell in my body would crack and crumble into stardust. And all I have are these tears, now icy streams down my cheeks, puddling around my feet. But I know daybreak will come. That is when the thawing will begin.

It’s the weight of your gaze that gets me. How I can read every thought that flutters through your mind. How your eyes can scream a thousand words without a single sound passing your lips. When they drown out these dark thoughts in my mind. In those moments, I’m reminded that I’m so much stronger than I ever give myself credit for. I’m reminded that I am worth loving. And all I have to do is look into your eyes when I need those reminders.

© Sarah Doughty

So please, look at me.

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Poetry

Paradoxical

“I know I shouldn’t want you, but I do.
That’s what makes you so dangerous.”

The darkness in your eyes is a paradox. It calls to me like a lost lover, beckoning me to go deeper into that oblivion. But I know that the only thing waiting for me is heartache and loss. That darkness tells me I can’t trust you.

But on the other hand, that darkness has a different draw. One that leaves me weak in the knees. One that sets my mind on fire and leaves my mouth watering. I know I shouldn’t want you, but I do.

And I suppose that’s what makes you so dangerous. I can’t resist what I know I shouldn’t want.

© Sarah Doughty

All I can do is try not to look at you.

Updates

Extended Week — Special Call for Submissions: Exploitation of Women

Whisper And The Roar is extending their month-long series
on the Exploitation of Women, covering all topics, for one week.

If you’d like to submit, head over here for more information.
There’s been so many great responses, it would be great to see more.

Until Next Time,
Sarah Doughty

Poetry

What Gets Me Part One

“And I know when I hear your heart,
my world will be alright.”

It’s the loss that gets me. The emptiness of it. How it leaves me feeling hollow. Like the wind could pick me up and blow me away. Like a memory. Like a ghost. Only a shell of what I once was. The product of such a troubled past. In those moments, I’m reminded that I won’t always be so lost. Something will come along and fill me up again. Maybe it’ll be hope. Maybe it’ll be love. I never know. But either way, I know it’ll end.

It’s the beat of your heart that gets me. How I used to hear it like a lullaby in the dark of night. How it let mine echo in tune. Like it was a song. Our song. The one I would know from anywhere. It was familiar. It was home. In those moments, I was complete. Oh, how I miss those nights, where I could just listen and know I was safe and nothing would bring me down. And I know. I know when I hear your heart beating once again, my world will be alright.

© Sarah Doughty

And oh, how beautiful is our song.

Updates

Coming soon: Sudden Denouement Anthology Volume I

The editors of the Sudden Denouement Literary Collective are thrilled to announce the upcoming release of the first Sudden Denouement Anthology! I am excited to be a part of it.

Read more about it here.

Until Next Time,
Sarah Doughty

Poetry

Time Machine

“If I had a time machine,
I would go back to make us right.”

If only I had a time machine to take me back to the time when everything was okay. I would try to fix it before it breaks, and I would want to make it right. Make us right.

But I can’t.

What was lost is gone and I will never have it back.

© Sarah Doughty

What is gone is gone.

Poetry

What Name

“And I wonder about you.
If there’s a reason you haunt me.”

No matter what I try, my mind lingers to you. In the dead of night, I can hear you whispering through the trees, echoing through the chambers in my heart, as if they’re one and the same. And I wonder about you. If there’s a reason you haunt me. If there’s anything I can do to rid my thoughts of you. But I suppose that’s what my problem is. How can I banish you when I don’t even know your true name?

Is it Love? Pain? Or is it Death? I’m not sure I want to know.

© Sarah Doughty

Either way, I think I’m screwed.

I want you to think about this piece. Reread it. Let it simmer.
Death does not call out like a lost lover.
But someone that is lingering at the edge,
wondering about death might think it would end their suffering.
Perhaps it would, but it would also end everything else.
So please, if you or someone you know ever
finds themselves in a situation where death
feels like an answer, reach out.
Get help. It is NEVER the answer.
Death has never been nor will it ever be romantic.

Poetry

Nature And You

“No matter where you are,
I still think of you.”

Today, I feel the wind and I’m reminded of the way your fingers touched my face. I feel the sun, hidden behind the clouds, and that warmth surrounds me, reminding me of what it felt like to be in your arms. I hear the leaves moving and the creaks in the branches as the trees sway and it reminds me of the way your fingers tapped on the keyboard.

So I stand here, without moving, and no matter where you are, I still think of you.

© Sarah Doughty

All I can think about is you
and all those moments
we spent together.

Poetry

Happiness

“All I ever wanted
was to make you happy.
And I will never give up trying.”

All I ever wanted was to make you happy. Though you deny it, I know I failed. I wanted to show the world I could survive anything. And I did try. But at every turn, it feels like one step forward leads to two steps back. And with so much at stake — being a mother, a bleeding heart, an empath, a wife, a person — a living, breathing, person — a survivor, it feels as if all I can do lately is fail.

All I ever wanted was to be happy. I guess I failed at that too

But that doesn’t mean I will ever give up trying.

© Sarah Doughty

I will never give up trying.

Poetry

Confines Of Love

“I wonder, what would
this world be if love was free?”

Love is not a gender.
It’s not a color.
It’s not a religion,
nor any other kind of belief.
It is an emotion
without limits,
without bounds,
and it should never be confined.

I wonder, what would
this world be if love was free?

© Sarah Doughty

Would you and I stand a chance?