Twitter Prose

I don’t know exactly why, but some part of me knows deep down I just have feelings within that need to be said. But, I do not fully comprehend them just yet. My only hope is that the person who this is for realizes it is for them. I spent most of this evening away from twitter. I guess I sort of felt like I was becoming too much ingrained in it and I wanted to step away for a moment to reflect on life without it. So, I watched a little TV, actually ended up dozing off a little bit and then spent some time reading passages from the Qur’an. Once I reached a point where I did not feel I could concentrate and give the words the focus they deserve, I came back to the computer. Yet, I really did not come on to talk, I really don’t know why I came on to the computer, but I just started to type and my emotions just started to flow forward in the poetic nature that my mind thinks sometimes.

So, here is Moonstar Silverwolf’s poetry in brief snippets using twitter’s 140 words or less limit. Thank you to the person who inspires me to learn, to reach for the stars, to trust & to love. I no longer wish to question what drives my being inside, I wish I could let it all go, leaving all the past behind. You make me smile every day, even if I never get to see you or hear you voice again.

I wish they made something that would magically make me never feel sleepy so I could spend every waking moment learning..

And that I would never feel tired so I could hear you whenever I desire.

But maybe the answer is not sleep or tired, but patience, patience that a day will come when I don’t have to search for you or wait

people will learn to hate me for I will begin to spit out poetry on twitter that no one understands, it’ll do me some good tho

the winds blow softly around my ears, gently touching against my cheek, embracing me and making me feel warm despite the cold..

the shadows of the trees as they look down at me, protecting me from the sun above, knowing that I am weak

the water reacts to my touch sending shivers through the pond reflecting my own image of what it felt like when you touched me..

my smile is greater than you may know for you have not seen me, & my voice will crack if I try to tell you..

but somehow, words flow through my fingers….

this is the life of the poet, the artist, the shy one. This is me.

I just hope I am enough for I am nothing compared to you, but I constantly search my soul to give more..

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