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Stifled, Stifled

Stifled, Stifled

A Poem by Emma Ruth

My thoughts are breathing, alive...
But my words; they're dead inside.
Congested in my head,
My salvation left unsaid,
The groom at the alter with no bride...

Stillborn they are,
Haunting me endlessly,
As time plods on, dragging me,
Hunting me relentlessly.

They're wild;
They've become my feral child,
Left cooped up, ignored, untended,
They fester, they scream - they're demented.

The long desire to talk,
But my mind is doomed to stalk,
The words it would easily say,
If tomorrow were today...


© 2013 Emma Ruth

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I hope your stifling will go away ...A splendid poem....:).................

Posted 9 Years Ago

My thoughts are breathing, alive...
But my words; they're dead inside.

No, no...they resurrect my desire to persevere writing thoughts that live throughout eternity; a breathing monument to the power of words from YOU here, Emma. The smooth flow of frustration and longing is palpable from beginning to end; hope lingering in the future. BRAVO

Posted 9 Years Ago

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Just hard to please the mind with their alignment, most times. But you've done beautifully with these!

Excellent work, Emma!

Posted 10 Years Ago

I am thinking about my writing as I read this. I have so much to say sometimes, but my words all sound dead and flat to me. Words scream at me to put them in some kind of order. I love works that make me feel something. Your words did for sure, Emma!

Posted 10 Years Ago

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4 Reviews
Added on May 12, 2013
Last Updated on May 13, 2013


Emma Ruth
Emma Ruth

United Kingdom

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