New to a place
Where people sans a face
Coming from everywhere
Can collaborate and share
Pieces of art
That come from the heart
Be it amateur and poor
Or a piece of lost lore
Simple and plain
Or sporadic and barely sane
Every poem is respected
Nothing should be rejected
Because it all means something to the one who wrote it
And it takes a lot of guts from the poet
To throw it out for anyone to see
And if they like it there's no certainty
So certainly this is scary
But hey life is is too nothing is merry
So I'm going to just let it out
Until there's nothing left to talk about
So without further ado
I'm going to show it to you
For me this is something new
And I'm not sure if this is what I will continue to do
But hey you got to be bold
Or you just sit in your static world
Everything has to change, eventually. But I didn't expect to ever stand on the edge of the world with you of all people and have to realize things are changing far too rapidly for any of us to handle.
You're holding my hand, and making promises you probably can't keep. Its breaking my heart as you scream "Grace, you're the only one for me" when I know you've said it time and again before and they never were the one for you, were they?
Its ok, I thought your best friend was the one. That was until he wasn't. So maybe in this moment, you aren't lying, for this second, maybe I am your one. But who knows if that'll stay, if that will remain, for rarely anything remains the same.
Maybe I've made a mistake forging my heart in the shape of your name, and maybe one day it'll morph itself into another, but for now making memories with you is all the new I want.
And then there's you. We fight, we cry, we love. But I don't know if we're right anymore, and part of me can dream of a world without you. That kills me, because you were my everything. I spent every day with you and I hate myself for thinking of how it might be easier to be apart.
The hollow hallways of my heart once were filled with you, but now I don't know if you belong in every avenue anymore. Maybe your just a conditional love now, something that hurts even to admit. You were once a world I could orbit around, but now as my own planet I can see myself out of your solar system.
And finally, you. The one I cannot fathom losing.
I don't even want to talk about the thought of losing you.
God how I hate everything new.
I need something new
A change of scenery
I need a good change,
and live my dreams in reality
I need new feelings
Sometimes I get them
Sometimes I just remember what I already knew
New things rarely happen
And I'm just tired of the same things
I feel like everyday's the same and I'm left to discover on my own
I feel like everything is grey and there's no color to behold
I need something new
And I've waited 16, almost 17 years
My whole life
And the only new thing that has happened is my body and mind
Which I don't like
With my head
still on my bed
I try to peek out for new lights
for new inspiration
for new myself
among the crowds of desolate.
Everyone is excited about some new year.
and I look back at the old year
and the older one
more older one.
I remember my friends
the members of my family
the rags on the street
the kings of the doomed
Try to look at their old year and new year
everyone is happy.
much smile and happiness.
But they fear tomorrow they have to forfeit
what today they are celebrating.
even the newspaper.
I never celebrated the name.
A new approach to things-
may seem.. Frightening.
a click, trickled down into a
shows the horizons of a
striving, bitter man,
and his loved ones.
I can't seem to love one-
of the 7 billion that claim
they are someone-
That answers after
and dances in
Even in the rain- I smile
a delightful frightening
it's hard to let go of something
you have held onto for so long.
watching it drift away,
caught in the wind.
tears stream from your face
and it feels like your chest has caved in.
but watching this thing die,
something you've known for your whole life,
means there will be a new beginning.
whether you're ready for it or not.
the smell of paint, rain drops gathered on the metal,
wooden flowers in that silver vase
the 'Modern art' that stares down from the walls
arranged seating at yet another social dinner
this just isn't us
and i wish i was 20
peeling wallpaper, cracks in the door
i didn't slam it enough to satisfy
sketches you drew inhabit the floor
reflect the technique in your mind
i wasn't in it enough for you to realise
the dust that warms the belonging of stuff
you missed almost deliberately each time
and i miss my 20s with you and your stuff
unfrindged windows, glass so cold
and inside I'm feeling so old
the fur rug that will wear
and I'm feeling old
mahogany case enclosing your mother's gold
and I'm feeling so old