ComeAsYouAre - Hello Poetry

At least I'm writing again even though it's sloppier than kindergarten scribbles. At least I'm writing again even if it's darker than a moonless January night. At least I'm writing again even if it's not easing any pain.

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Nov 12, 2017

Nov 12, 2017 at 12:07 AM UTC

At least I'm writing again

At least I'm writing again even though it's sloppier than kindergarten scribbles. At least I'm writing again even if it's darker than a moonless January night. At least I'm writing again even if it's not easing any pain.

9

Monday trickles into Tuesday. Wednesday and Thursday blur out of focus. The weekend doesn't even happen. Suddenly it's Monday at the end of the month and you don't remember getting there. You don't remember eating or sleeping. You don't remember anything expect monotony. The days have been pureed into a monochromatic slush. Unappetizing and bland.

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Nov 11, 2017

Nov 11, 2017 at 11:58 PM UTC

Daily blend

Monday trickles into Tuesday. Wednesday and Thursday blur out of focus. The weekend doesn't even happen. Suddenly it's Monday at the end of the month and you don't remember getting there. You don't remember eating or sleeping. You don't remember anything expect monotony. The days have been pureed into a monochromatic slush. Unappetizing and bland.

11

I don't write anymore. I haven't picked up a pen in a year and a half. The words are gone and I am empty. I look at an autumn tree and don't see renewal and change. I see the oncoming winter and the cold depression it will bring. I look at a sunset and no longer see the universal canvas. I see the end of a long day. I look at a stream and instead of imagining the lives of fish I see only perpetual change. I don't write anymore and it's killing me.

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Nov 10, 2017

Nov 10, 2017 at 11:58 PM UTC

I don't write anymore and it's killing me

I don't write anymore. I haven't picked up a pen in a year and a half. The words are gone and I am empty. I look at an autumn tree and don't see renewal and change. I see the oncoming winter and the cold depression it will bring. I look at a sunset and no longer see the universal canvas. I see the end of a long day. I look at a stream and instead of imagining the lives of fish I see only perpetual change. I don't write anymore and it's killing me.

12

The hand that penned those words was mine, but the soul behind them the crimson flame and silver tongue that spoke them isn't me anymore. I'm not her; Hell I'm barely me. I remember her in the way one remembers a long lost friend. Distantly and with fond thoughts. Those words are no longer my words for I am not that soul. I am a shell of who I was. A broken, tired, warrior fought too long. I've lost her hope her happiness. I've watched her dreams die. I've given up everything she wanted. I've changed I don't know who I'll become or where I'm going but I'm not her anymore.

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Nov 10, 2017

Nov 10, 2017 at 11:40 PM UTC

I'm not her

The hand that penned those words was mine, but the soul behind them the crimson flame and silver tongue that spoke them isn't me anymore. I'm not her; Hell I'm barely me. I remember her in the way one remembers a long lost friend. Distantly and with fond thoughts. Those words are no longer my words for I am not that soul. I am a shell of who I was. A broken, tired, warrior fought too long. I've lost her hope her happiness. I've watched her dreams die. I've given up everything she wanted. I've changed I don't know who I'll become or where I'm going but I'm not her anymore.

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A warrior doesn't need a therapist. But then again a warrior doesn't cry when yelled at...

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Dec 1, 2016

Dec 1, 2016 at 8:02 PM UTC

Warrior

A warrior doesn't need a therapist. But then again a warrior doesn't cry when yelled at...

2

You turn and throw your ring at me the one we used when we swore forever. The ring gets bigger as it gets closer to me it grows and grows and finally smashes against the wall as if it were glass. The pieces are everywhere, I try to pick them up but they shred my hands. The skin on my finger where my ring was peels to the bone. Blood and bits of my hands mix with tears that are pouring down my face. You look away and I know I've lost you.

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Aug 24, 2016

Aug 24, 2016 at 11:31 PM UTC

Nightmare

You turn and throw your ring at me the one we used when we swore forever. The ring gets bigger as it gets closer to me it grows and grows and finally smashes against the wall as if it were glass. The pieces are everywhere, I try to pick them up but they shred my hands. The skin on my finger where my ring was peels to the bone. Blood and bits of my hands mix with tears that are pouring down my face. You look away and I know I've lost you.

11

Great anguish brings great inspiration. Words flow from my lips, Fresh and cool. Trickling ever downward. My mind never stops rushing and my pen follows suit. When in times of great happiness I am sent out to sea in my own ideas and hopes. Words are salty little splashes of ink. The pen my canoe and the paper my little boat. Between great sorrow and deep happiness is a desert of contentedness. No words quench my longing when words could cleanse the land, flood my soul. Thirsty, lost, hopeless, wandering in dust with no voice.

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Jul 14, 2016

Jul 14, 2016 at 7:38 PM UTC

Caught in the middle

Great anguish brings great inspiration. Words flow from my lips, Fresh and cool. Trickling ever downward. My mind never stops rushing and my pen follows suit. When in times of great happiness I am sent out to sea in my own ideas and hopes. Words are salty little splashes of ink. The pen my canoe and the paper my little boat. Between great sorrow and deep happiness is a desert of contentedness. No words quench my longing when words could cleanse the land, flood my soul. Thirsty, lost, hopeless, wandering in dust with no voice.

13

The masses whirl My head spins with all the colours The reds the blues Everyone smiling and happy And yet I feel alone. The masses don't touch me And I don't touch them I keep to myself And they pretend I am not here. I will never be a member of the masses I am too withdrawn.

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Mar 12, 2015

Mar 12, 2015 at 1:46 AM UTC

masses

The masses whirl My head spins with all the colours The reds the blues Everyone smiling and happy And yet I feel alone. The masses don't touch me And I don't touch them I keep to myself And they pretend I am not here. I will never be a member of the masses I am too withdrawn.

11

I keep little pieces of you with me Like the little pieces you left of my heart I keep your anarchy I keep your quotes I keep your memory I keep the fire you lit in my heart I keep the spark you put in my eyes I keep your passion I keep our love locked away I keep these little things in hopes You'll come back someday.

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Mar 12, 2015

Mar 12, 2015 at 1:42 AM UTC

pieces of you

I keep little pieces of you with me Like the little pieces you left of my heart I keep your anarchy I keep your quotes I keep your memory I keep the fire you lit in my heart I keep the spark you put in my eyes I keep your passion I keep our love locked away I keep these little things in hopes You'll come back someday.

11

Smile little Red that's it, my dear but not too big, hide away those fangs. Pull your pretty little hood up get it just right, my dear, push back those furry ears. Blink those pretty blue eyes, but wait, something's wrong my dear, was that a flash of yellow I saw? Cross your legs now and sit like a lady my dear, don't let that tail poke out. Tuck your hands under your sweet little bag my dear, put away those claws. Watch out little Red your secret could slip out my dear, your inner wolf is howling a little too loud.

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Mar 11, 2015

Mar 11, 2015 at 2:02 AM UTC

Little Red's secret

Smile little Red that's it, my dear but not too big, hide away those fangs. Pull your pretty little hood up get it just right, my dear, push back those furry ears. Blink those pretty blue eyes, but wait, something's wrong my dear, was that a flash of yellow I saw? Cross your legs now and sit like a lady my dear, don't let that tail poke out. Tuck your hands under your sweet little bag my dear, put away those claws. Watch out little Red your secret could slip out my dear, your inner wolf is howling a little too loud.

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