Leah Moreno is a writer and poet from Independence, Mo. A writer for 15 years, she has spent the last 3 concentrated on poetry and prose.
Specializing in unique romantic and soliloquy styles, her dramatic, organic pieces speak directly to the heart by pulling in and captivating the reader’s imagination.
“Thoughts in Question”
When you asked... I stuttered, Eyes downcast, Distraction my shutter. My mind stuck in moratorium, As my heart missed two beats, And a lip is worried in stunted delirium, Hands twisted before panic's deplete. Ten thousand thoughts, But silence ensued... A string of words impossible to unknot, Incoherence, shifting to disquietude. In a word or two, Carefully expurgated, I thought I could describe you, Chaos of want is hard to keep separated. But, I instead question, The reflection you made, A shame, I paid close attention, But there are truths... betrayed. Arrogance would be convincing, If you didn't have your own dark phantom, Even in the best facades, they're always existing, Though, you aren't the type to need sanctum. I wish I could paint my guise as well as you, Or craft an armored casque that never cracks, Broken pieces others would never construe, Is that why you drown your words in cognac? I wonder... If you thought so few would see, You're being torn asunder, Drunk on meaning, but stuck in reality. Did you think I'd speak in words austere? Paying tribute to vanity, I could, it's more than a mind I revere, Even this admission, my secret calamity. The words on *your* page, Do they flow? Are they truly your heart's gage? Beauty only in the verses you bestow. When asked, all I have is praise. Curious of my fantasy? Well, it's head I prefer not to raise, Cheers! As I whisper R.I.P to my sanity.
Voices are echoing in their mind, rending their essence, fracturing their vitality. Mordacious, dispirited quips face off galvanized encomium. A battle of one's own divided will tremors across aura's threads, malicious or beatific... both cradling their rapacity. Even the angels within provoke these delusions demonian. They're absonant cacophony is rippling across distorted cosmic existences. Blurring, melding lifetimes, timeliness... all clamoring to dominate the screaming, withering flesh. The victor to imprison or snuff the others, all too selfish to submit to harmonious coexistence. Existential crisis to pursue should they divide again, insanity to follow if they dare enmesh.
You've cleaved yourself to me, Carefully weaving pieces of yourself into my meticulous threading. Even in solus, I am no longer free, Not from your careful coupling of insidious embeddings. Stitch by stich, you infiltrated my essence, Embroidering your image in my susceptible heart. Unwittingly letting you, longing for your incalescence. Your tight knots strangling mine with the repugnant venom you impart. You've besmirched my would be passions, Leading me to a leaching lugubrious demise. Turning the life within my veins sluggish and ashen. Cling to your fantasy, exulting in your mastery of me... that would be unwise. I've torn loose of these tarnished threads before, Rending my own in heart in recalcitrant mutiny. My rebirth will be facile, but your dereliction will fill me with vigor. Watch as I mend from brutality, my threads weaving together more beautifully