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Abigail Tatum Poem
Pretty things and Ugly things
Blooming flowers and
decaying leaves
Stunning sunsets and
terrifying darkness
Pretty things and Ugly things
Sweet protection and
constant smothering
Thrilling happiness and
crushing sadness
Surrounded by darkness, yet still stumbling to the light
Copyright © Abigail Tatum | Year Posted 2015
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Abigail Tatum Poem
I tried to introduce myself,
the words not coming out.
Her dark blue eyes glared at thyself;
I heard her vocals shout.
Of course you wouldn't notice me.
A ghost haunting this place;
a tortured soul you couldn't see;
a caged wolf pacing in this space.
I noticed you on the sidewalk
bathed in the silver light,
Daring myself to try and talk
I gave up with a fright.
You were barely walking ahead,
So close yet so far.
I watched as the shiny car sped,
My ribs feeling like bars.
We stopped at the same time waiting,
waiting for the light change,
and my resounding heart skating,
this incident was strange.
Where you turned around and looked straight,
Straight into my wide eyes.
I felt the sudden need to hate,
And tell myself petty lies .
Because I knew you saw my soul,
the one I kept hidden.
Darker than the blackest shade coal;
things I wanted ridden.
And you smiled knowingly,
because you saw inside.
Not the girl who is showingly,
The girl who always hides.
They're the ones who killed my spirit,
broke me down to nothing.
My screaming; no one could hear it,
you could make me something.
Pressing a soft kiss to my cheek,
your hand fit like a glove.
I knew this would not be bleak;
a different kind of love.
And even though I was broken,
You would fix me with tools.
Tools made of your devoted love,
we will make our own rules.
Copyright © Abigail Tatum | Year Posted 2016
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Abigail Tatum Poem
The taste is as fine as ever,
of the sweet and the divine.
True love's kiss upon my lips;
the taste is as fine as ever.
Such would be a dream,
for such a wonderful thing-
the taste as fine as ever,
of the sweet and the divine.
Copyright © Abigail Tatum | Year Posted 2016
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Abigail Tatum Poem
This is a story-
An unfinished story of a girl unsaid
A girl who was very well read,
but didn't always have her own bed.
A breaking of union when she was too young;
A coming together with a new dad and son.
Her family had grown twofold-
Oh how she was loved
But times fell hard
And she fell with a start;
when she was living in a little house
With no space apart
Cramped and compact,
she did not complain
Because it was not all that bad, you see
When your surrounded by the love of your family
Too many people
A too small space
This little girl needed her space
And she was not the only one
Petty arguments and
Silly squabbles
Too close together and
Too far apart
So the little girl and her family moved
To their own house
A olaace with wide halls
And big walls
But the rest of her family followed
As she knew they would
But she was OK
Because she finally understand
They were dysfunctional;
they were strange;
they had no concept of a time range.
But family is family wherever you are
No matter how near, no matter how far
Copyright © Abigail Tatum | Year Posted 2016
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Abigail Tatum Poem
Eyes as bright as fire
They illuminate the dark
Red lips born of a
rose; lay them upon my prone form
sleeping in your arms of strength
Copyright © Abigail Tatum | Year Posted 2016
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Abigail Tatum Poem
The heart urges me to feel
and despite my endless searching
all I feel is nothing
The mind urges me to see
Yet despite my many attempts
all I see is darkness
The forbidden part of me urges me to taste
But despite my continued seeking
all I taste is blood
The voices in my head urges me to hear
Only despite my constant straining
all I hear is silence
The breath in my lungs urges me to smell
Although despite my unceasing tries
all I smell is death
The heart urges me to feel,
but the numb do not feel.
The mind urges me to see,
but the blind do not see.
The forbidden part of me urges me to taste,
but the broken do not taste.
The voices in my head urge me to hear,
but the deaf do not hear.
The breath in my lungs urges me to smell,
but the dead do not smell.
Copyright © Abigail Tatum | Year Posted 2015
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Abigail Tatum Poem
The bed of sorrow is comfortable
It entombs you
in a comforter of darkness
Once you lie in it
It whispers sweet nothings in your ear
and you want to sleep for eternity
Beautiful numbness creates serenity
You are unable to feel
and begin to lose yourself to the darkness
Agony is a constant presence
A reminder if all that has been lost
and all you lament for
The feeling is like none other
An experience not forgettable
nor memorable
The world ways you down
You were worried about my bed
When you should have been worried about yours
Copyright © Abigail Tatum | Year Posted 2015
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