i care too much. i can't stop caring. i can't let go. Mother will call, and call, and call. i answer, without fail or hesitation. the best friend's will take, make snide comments, say mean things, do mean things, hurt me. i will be by their side no matter what. my fatal flaw is that when you tell me that i'm too emotional, i will never stop thinking that. i was once told i had the biggest nose in the third grade. i am still hyperaware, and ashamed of it.
letting go is the hardest thing to do when you think you deserve the pain.
I have a crush on you Why wouldn’t I You’re so my type So my style So careless But so caring Multicultural Individual So am I My double trouble What will I do When you leave me Will you miss me At least a little bit? Or quite a lot? Did you mean it When you said That you cared About me?
I love darkness Because in the dark You won't see my scar And I will be spared From all the questionnaire And you won't dare To leave my hand As you are scared But what if you find a flare Will you still bear with me?
Broken pieces. Slog. Life can be a slog. A brutal slog. Riddled with minefields. Dog eat dog. Left bloodied and beaten. Not for the faint of heart. Gladiators. Warriors on the battlefield. The battlefield called of life. Many fail, give up the ghost. Sometimes. If you’re lucky, very lucky. Near the end of the journey, the clouds will break. The sun will shine, warm breezes envelope. All then will be right with the world.
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 don’t want to Open my mouth Because I’m still afraid The truth might come out And if it does If it really breaks free You’ll see what I am You’ll see the true me The one I hide With jokes and lies I’m a terrible person All jokes aside You don’t seem to know it You don’t seem to see Even a glimpse of that person That I know to be me I’m such a good actress I hide it so well Cover it with a laugh And you’ll never tell You see depth in my eyes You see love and emotion But what would you see If I ever did open I can’t bear to find out I can’t bear to show The me you don’t see The me that I know If I let it out If I let it be I know for a fact That you would hate me.
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.
i adore cold weather. But not for the fires, Or the warmth of another person. I find something beautiful about it, And maybe even a bit lonely. It reminds me of bittersweet loss, And finding the strength to move on.
The smell of new rain permeates the air the first heavy drops raise little puffs of dust in the dirt. Covered porches protect her from the storm outside and the dread inside where benign neglect reigned ennui and death strained children’s hearts threatened to pull apart the joy sleeping in their wondrous souls that lived beyond the confines of the dark brooding grip of family inside the ancestral home.
Inspired by my cousin’s memoir. With gratitude to her for this courageous masterpiece. I hope this will be the first of many poems sprung from this work which has shed revelatory light on my personality and familial past. I will refer to these poems as “Teche Series”
Yes now, be in the now Don’t get trapped in the tomorrow Be you, enjoy, and avow Promise you will stay true and be your best, let go of sorrow Move forward, be kind and a friend Those are all that matter in the end So challenging to move through this life So many twists, turns it cuts like a knife The one thing that matters is the path you forged Did you do well? What is your reward Rewards are not our ultimate desire Be content and maintain that fire Fire that burns to ensure you are present and alive That is truly going to help you survive Survive and prosper, love and live Because at night that is what we sleep with
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.
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
Sometimes when I sit all alone In the darkness of my mind I see what all I hide And I just ask myself why Why do I cry when I have no one by my side Is it because I’m just weak inside?
I can sit at parties And talk with my buddies Laugh at the stupid things While we all call ourselves kings But I’m sometimes relieved when it ends Oh how I do love my friends But I’m just not like them I don’t seem to fit in so well
Maybe it’s the sadness I feel Making it all seem a bit unreal My feelings just all blend Sometimes I wish I were dead
And why must I be tortured so With cupid's little bow Some say love is magic But I’d say it’s quite tragic And well… Some would say I’m just being too dramatic
But there it is A feeling seeming to never leave me I’ve given up on what to call it So I call it life And it cuts me with a knife Geez can’t you give me a break.
Her embrace was a clinch to prevent hard blows. She pulled me close to push me away. Seeing my nakedness she leant me a dream of chainmail and shield. Taking love from me she gave a reprieve to a mind resigned to the slow death of feeling.
Ignoring my words she heard my faint silent heartbeat and understood that it was music too quiet for the world to hear and turned it up louder than I could stand. I wept in my deafness as she danced.
I think I found my soulmate A long time ago But I hurt her And now we’re lost Still connected by an invisible thread Tangled and taunt We walk away from Each other But really I still feel her And I know She feels me too
The moonlight falls onto my skin, Silver and rippling And I feel a semblance of peace. I close my eyes To let it all in And let it all go. My eyes glisten With the reflection Or tears perhaps. I find I don’t care which. Because peace is precious, Peace and a certain kind of silence. Not the lonely kind, The suffocating kind. Just the silence of calm. I allow myself hope for a moment That everything could be ok, That I might be ok.