I crave love. It's human nature.
My heart is rather fried.
Still, I will do nothing.

Inspired by a friend

"Box."

My life is a box.
It shows a new face every day,
And each one is flat.
Like a collapsed box.

My life is a box.
It can't roll very far without looking retarded.
Like a square box.

My life is a box.
It's used for storage.
of memories.
Like a dusty box.

My life is a box.
It comes in different sizes and designs
to meet your needs.
Like a gift box.

Boxes are much more complex than you think.
Boxers.
Did you think of a dog? An athlete? Men's underwear?
Your mind is now blown.

My life is a box.

Amy Bohon,
~4.19.10

The whereabouts of this blog's name

"From a Dark Heart."

Maybe.
Maybe.
It's always the same.
This word you indirectly speak to me keeps me alive.
But it also kills me.
What's going on in your mind?
Are you really thinking about it?
Are you thinking about me at all?
Or is it just buying you time?
If it is, I hope you don't feel bad about giving me false hope.
I like to think you aren't that type of person,
But I just don't really know.
I just hope you realize how much I love you.
(I could never be mad at you anyway.)
This is coming from the soul that is shadowed until you make a decision.
(No rush.)
This comes from my dark heart.

~4/18/10,

and... modeling a master (Emily Dickinson)

Emily Dickinson's poem:

Will there really be a morning?
Is there such a thing as day?
Could I see it from the mountains
If I were as tall as they?

Has it feet like water lilies?
Has it feathers like a bird?
Is it brought from foreign countries
Of which i have never heard?

Oh, some scholar! Oh, some sailor!
Oh, some wise man from the skies!
Please to tell a little pilgrim
Where the place called morning lies!


my model of the above poem:

"Daybreak"

Oh, will Daybreak really come?
Will it show itself today?
Whether seen by few or some
Will you please show it the way?

I have seen it only once
The memories aren't clear
While the great Night Moon still hunts
And the Daybreak hides in fear.

Oh, some hero! Oh, please save it!
Save the Daybreak from the Moon!
I am sure you won't regret it
Daybreak shall repay you soon.

second poem by Amy Bohon, 2.23.10

ah, just for the heck of it, here's my acrostic

"Worship"

We know the almighty power
Of the supreme being; the
Rightness in his word; how we are
Shown the way by his ever-guiding
Hand; all who seek
Innocence shall be welcomed and safe in his
Palms.

by Amy Bohon, 2.19.10

Haikus... post 3

"Willow"

Branches hanging down
The cold wind makes her shiver
Found in a graveyard.

by Amy Bohon, 2.19.10

Haikus... post 2

"Stapler"

Kind of small and black
It holds papers together
Well, the staple does.

by Amy Bohon, 2.19.10

Haikus... post 1

"Lockers"

Standing tall and grey
Stacked together; all attached
I have the bottom.

by Amy Bohon, 2/19/10

testing a new poetry strategy... eh.

To see again.
That is my only wish.
That, and for my "killer to see me now".
To see that I am not dead.
Just blind; can't you tell?
He accused me mad;
Insane.
They all did.
So he took my sight, and killed me.
But, aha! His actions failed!
And now I am waiting...
Ever so silent.
Ever so still.
waiting... waiting...
until the day he comes by.
waiting... oh yes, I'll be waiting when he comes by.
Always waiting.
I will never move.
Where does a blind man have to go, anyway?

"Sour Revenge Beyond the Grave"
-Amy Bohon, 2/4/10, Thursday, 10:55 pm

my first rhyming poem EVER. what do you think about it?

Pit-a-pat,
Pit-a-pat,
raindrops on my roof.
Sprinkle sprinkle,
tinkle tinkle,
raindrops on my roof.

They hold off the sun,
the moon,
the stars,
that's how they have fun.

Pit-a-pat,
raindrops falling,
sprinkle-splat,
their shape turns flat.

With a chill in my ear,
February air,
another life is omitted
to the after-stair.

"A Murder in the Rain"
-Amy Bohon, 2/4/10, 10:46 pm, Thursday

Her Happiness

I'm so happy with my life now.
All the promises held true.
Even the small ones,
the new ones,
the true ones.

No lies.
No regret.
No sadness.

Even her, With her mind so hard to figure out
is opening up and letting the world know
what I've seen all along.

It's like the tides are turning
something once seen with only fear and remorse,
is now greeted with a smile and a rose.

And the world is at peace,
because she is happy.

Amy Bohon, Her Happiness
1/21/10 10:43 pm

Without a Sense of Security

Never told what could happen
Each day is a lie.
a dirty, cold secret.
What to make of it?

As humans,
our lives behold to us the great abyss of reality
And as humans,
we just want it to go away.
But unfortunately,
it isn't possible.

Just when we think that life is all blossoms and apple pies,
we step outside,
do something while living on the edge,
and we get a healthy dose of actual living.

So much for childhood innocence.

Amy Bohon, 8:15 am, 12/13/09, Without a Sense of Security

Dead at War

Tragedy fading
Newness arrives

New eyes
Nothing but blindness

New hands
Feeling nothing but cold

New mind
Where the hell am I?

New ears
The sound of silence

Is this all really new?
Or am I just not using the old?

Amy Bohon, Dead at War
12/6/09 11:29 pm

Plea

I know,I've said it a million times before.
But I just have to let you know that my offer still applies.
And the truth is,
I don't know what to think.
Not about you, of course,
we've gone over that plenty.
No, I'm confused about others.
It's like I'm always walking on eggshells around them.
And after I talk to them, I'm left with an empty feeling of regret and loniness.
So, as your friend,
I feel like you're the onlyone I can talk to nowadays.
And the worst part of it all?
It feels as though our kindship is fading...

Amy Bohon, Plea
12/06/09, 11:22 pm