If I look forward as I fall I might regret this soon as the ground comes ever closer So I turn around to look back and remember why it is, I'm falling in the first place as I watch the sky get further away
i spent my life trying to please someone with a twisted disease i broke myself down and tucked my feelings away to become the person they wanted me to be i let myself be watched through the glass of a two sided mirror of a sociopath i wallowed my spirit away and begged for acceptance but there’s nothing in the world that i could do to let the narcissist know that i am human too
the only thing that can please a narcissist is being miserable
I used to read your poems but lately you don't write you're silent and aloof you know that isn't right. You can't close a door once opened you can't abolish all your dreams you're a poet of the heart mustn't fall apart at the seams. Say what you can in words they speak the message true spoken from the heart the poems will see you through. A hermit's not your style a recluse, you are not never give up writing of things that you've been taught. I used to read your poems I'd read them once again if you would send them out (this one's from a poet friend)
I love him I tell myself I know that We will be together forever I don’t believe that We could be separated My thoughts tell me that He’s the love of my life Sometimes my heart lies and says I could live an eternity Without him Like my friends say “We’re perfect for each other” And you can’t tell me He’s not the one.
I thought if I could swallow the stars I’d be as beautiful as the evening sky I tried one night with fireflies They burned my throat Their legs striking at soft flesh But my skin did not glow No moon crawled from my eye sockets I was left with corpses in my stomach I soon learned I would only ever be A cemetery
They said, "The most beautiful art is looking into someone's eyes when they talk about the things they love." And I said, "Or looking at someone you love. Or maybe, just maybe, by looking at the mirror is the most beautiful art anyone should appreciate."
Appreciation post for myself; for you and for everyone as well. You deserve more than the world has to offer.
A wordsmith sits patently Sharpening and refining his tools. He listens and he waits For the deadly moment, Knowing exactly when to strike. He unsheathes his sword, Pointing expertly towards his prey. Words of shining steel Slice through the air Landing with intent, Cutting with precision, Twisting with malice, Into this bleeding heart Of mine.
Whether a comma, or colon: Punctuation slows my rolling I need no period. When I end no Capitalization when I begin Rulelessly I flow my art Not a single! Exclamation mark Are you not the one Who'll know? Where a question mark No longer goes
Warp the structure Bend the lines Put in repeat Let emotion unwind Make yourself Your poetry's the best Be your own ruler Pass your own test
Take your own road Where ever it leads Lover or hater It's all poetry!
Traveler Tim .
Hay No matter who you are You have my deepest respect!
Vanity All is vanity The meanings of passion The aesthetic expression The lines we draw and stay within Even love is beyond intent Vanity transcends Flowing from our pens And so we breathe again
together the first flower bloomed with her sisters we watched it waver as storms weeped and weathered we planted more seeds of glowing hope wishing, one day we could see it flourish into a beautiful garden we could explore forever
It was 1982 my father wound up dead. I dont know the demon who put a price upon his head. It was my mother who found him, his face she said looked serene. My father was a proud man, he was a bad *** marine. Some days I wonder who did this, he died before his time. The facts were also so unclear, the words just didn't rhyme. If I could give him his justice then I would make it known that I would induce an eye for an eye with my heart as hard as stone. There is a punishment coming that Iv'e heard people tell. The wicked man that killed my father will suffer down in hell. Between heaven and hell theres a casym, I will go there every day, to watch the man who killed my father with the God who made him pay.
I was looking into his eyes and he into mine yet I couldn't tell if he was seeing me He drew in his last stunted breaths as his eyes watched the Universe opening to receive him I was with him yet so far away I wanted to cry out I wanted to feel him feeling me Then he was gone.