Welcome to Song in the Silence

This blog was started as a single place to put all of my poetry, and even prose, that I have written. From my very first poem when I was 13 years old to the slower paced, and more rare, poems written in my mid-30s.

Constructive criticism is always welcome. You can find a mirror of this blog on http://song-in-the-silence.tumblr.com/.

Thank you for the visit and hope you enjoy.

Icon: Books by sunlitsundays (livejournal)

Header image: Ghost Mountain by Caffeine_Romance (Deviantart)

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883 [20 December 2016]

Is it you that this feeling grows for,
or is it the idea of you?
Does the affection flowing through me occur
for the blood and flesh version of you?
Or does it course through my veins
based on the dream-forged version of you?
Do I really want to work through
the difficulties and blessings of love with you?
Or do I just want the fantasy?
These questions may forever go unanswered
as the simplest inquiry may remain
the one door I do not open.

© Johanna Kaye Fugitt 2017

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882 [20 December 2016]

There are days I wish I could be
someone, anyone, else.
If only so you would look at me
to see someone you would want
in your part of the world.
That wish lies at odds with my goals,
to be a woman who does not pretend.
Who does not make apologies,
for being herself.
While I suffer confidence issues,
I still yet wish to remain
truly and honestly,
the person I am.
Even if it means the affection,
the possible love burgeoning in my heart
goes unrequited.

© Johanna Kaye Fugitt 2017

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881 [18 December 2016]

If I could give you all of me,
I would try.
If you would accept all of me,
I would fall.

© Johanna Kaye Fugitt 2017

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880 [18 December 2016]

Life is more every day,
awakening to the slow breathing of a lover
standing on the precipice of a choice
that step forward when all you want is to stop.

© Johanna Kaye Fugitt 2017

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878 [29 October 2016]

It is easy to see why some
think that the cliffs and valleys of Montana
are of a creation purely divine.
The striated walls lit by the light
of a flame-reflected setting sun,
appear as if colored by a stained-glass mosaic.
The hush of sound quietly flowing
through the corridors of stone
act as the holy hymnal.

© Johanna Kaye Fugitt 2017

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877 [26 October 2016]

Oh to have him.
Oh to have the touch of something
many take for granted.
To touch someone and know
that your touch was welcomed.
To feel skin against skin,
innocent sleep movements to comfort
rather than arousal.
What would that feel like?

© Johanna Kaye Fugitt 2017

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874 [17 October 2016]

it is a strange heaven,
this paradise mundane
souls endlessly seeking
that next phenom
be it electronic or celebrity.
or is this the hell they speak of,
the veritable hill of Sisyphus

it is a strange paradise,
this heaven mundane
if this be all that we have
then the treasure is here
in little moments of love,
in glimpses of contentedness,
in the small truths of Alethia’s measured steps.

© Johanna Kaye Fugitt 2017

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870 [04 September 2016]

I want something real,
something tangible, something flawed.
I want mornings where the sun rises too soon,
curled in your warm embrace.
I want evenings touched with passion.
I want arguments and annoyances,
I want moments where nothing seems to exist except the two of us.
I want quiet solace, comfort.
A person who stands in my corner,
even if I might be wrong.
I want imperfection, I want friendship.
I want companionship.
I want a partner at my back,
and a bond, perhaps cracked in a few spots,
but whole and solid nonetheless.
This is what I want.
This may be something I never find.

I don’t want perfection.
I don’t want the traditional.
I don’t want the white dress,
the big wedding.
I don’t want the white picket fence with 2.5 children.
I don’t want mediocre.
I don’t want to wake up one day,
and realize I’ve made a mistake.
I don’t want to pretend to be someone else, and I don’t want them to pretend
to be anyone but who they were born to be. That is what I don’t want.
This may be something I will never find.

© Johanna Fugitt 2017

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869 A Life (Unlived?) [28 July 2016]

Oh destiny,
I was waiting so quiet and
with so much patience
that you must have walked right by me.
For I have been sitting on this bench
the entirety of my existence.
Silent and polite,
desperate and longing,
counting the days as they too
walk on by.
Perhaps you didn’t recognize me,
or I looked too much like someone
you had assisted earlier,
but I will wait here still.
one day you’ll turn around
one day you’ll extend your fingers in invitation.

© Johanna Fugitt 2017

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868 Little by Little [14 December 2014]

Little by little my heart heals itself,
Little by little I sigh into your embrace.
Little by little your voice becomes home,
Little by little I memorize your taste.

Little by little my heart opens wide,
Little by little our troubles we face.
Little by little we build our life,
Little by little we become interlaced.

© Johanna Fugitt 2017

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