4 hours ago

He left the trail of kisses
down my neck and spine,
this was his farewell,
our last goodbye.

As he said "see you",
i said "come around",
but we both knew the feeling,
of  beeing  lost  and  found .

14 hours ago

I'm not sunset
nor am I sunrise.
I'm the moon
in midnight's eyes
at the death of day
and the birth of night,
jeweled stars
awake and mixing
in my boldest beams,
problems fixed
in tidal pools
unspooled, broken
dreams stitched,
a midnight moon
under which
black skies
and blue waters
heal bruises
in dark corners.

7 hours ago

It's 2 a.m.here in Calgary,
I'm sitting on my bed thinking,
I have an English quiz today,
I studied for it,
But of course my anxiety has to come along,
I'm thinking of all the possible outcomes and future of either passing or failing the test,
The numbers so far 5:129
(No don't worry the 129 is the failure side, I told you so that you don't have to ask which ones which),
It's 2 a.m. and I have come up with 134 possible outcomes of this test and my parents make me take sleeping pills that I dump in the toilet,
I drink a lot of coffee and energy drinks,
But I'm still thinking tossing and turning physically and mentally,
Then you wonder why do you have to continue this way,
Then this depression thing comes in and makes my anxiety worse,
Causing a melt down.

It's 2:01 a.m.

It's a poem
Alexandria O'Brien

Take a white woman and cover her in red paint
Take a black woman and do the same
Now you can't tell the color of their skin
You can only judge from what is within

We are taught from a young age
To hate what is different from us
Now it's your choice to be peaceful
It's not the paint that is deceitful

But we are the same kind of people
If you look in my inner reflection
It's not about thick thighs and pigmentations
It's about every heart in all of the nations

Who would you take a slug for
Who do you wish death upon
Don't waste your bad words
On the ears of that's all that they've heard

Speak life into strangers daily
I don't know you or owe you
But I can still call you my friend
And we will fight together until the end

We all bleed red paint
We all die sinners and saints
Don't label me something I ain't
This heart, is not for the faint

So bless my skin
An all that is within
From the tips of my toes to
Every part the good Lord to knows

You judge me if you like
I won't reflect on it
I have cracks in my skin
And all the paint seeps in

And so it fills me up
With all the love and the pain
Of those who bleed out in vain
Because fools speak words that sound insane

Different shades of acceptance
So judgmental in their minds
Because they fear what is different
It's not your fault they on ignorance

So color me blue
And let the sky watch
Because we have bigger problems
Than who's white and who's not

A poem about skin color, and how foolish it is to treat someone based on something that they have no control over. Speak love.
Joshua Penrod
Joshua Penrod
18 hours ago

No battle is won by merely one man
It is won in the blood stained garments of many
It is not dictated by the resolve in his final stand
But the impact of the burden carried by all, on every step of the journey


#love   #war   #life   #death   #fight   #journey   #struggle   #determination   #battles   #resolve  
4 hours ago

skin so desirable
don't need a (wo)man
to feel believe it

her ghosts no longer
echo hums in the caverns
of my mind

1 day ago

Solitary, lie-back moments; of being in the coziest of places surrounded by the most mundane yet magical. Melancholy has a way of tinging itself with those little nuances of memory, and those little nuances of memory tinge themselves with shades of bittersweet and sad recollection over time. Silent reckonings, simplistically suppressing thoughts - all huge contradictions to the slow, natural motion of letting the waves wash over you.

Is this emotional maturity? Is this a step forward? Life is always full of too many intricacies to tell for sure.

The familiar scents of tearstains and revulsion being punctuated by the occasional flicker of light ahead; pain and perseverance, hope and the promise of heaven.

We are so full of contradictions - concrete, grounded beings yet with so many abstractions and complexities in our heads. A constant grapple, a relentless cycle. Coming back to places of washed up memories has this effect on you; but you pull through, you plough through quicksands, you pick up the small rationalities that have gone astray, and you move forward like you’ve always been doing before. It’s the only thing we know how to do.

Walk on our own, on our own two feet.

And pray that whatever knocks us down, will never be enough to sink us.

written exactly a year ago. it's been a while.
#alone   #mystery   #solitude   #calm  
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