I can stick a gun in my mouth and it will jam. I can cut myself and miss. If I set myself on fire; it will rain to put me out. I can work up an appetite and not eat. If I stick my face to the wind; I won’t burn my skin. The world spins and I stay still. I can hear bombs from miles and crush rocks to sand. Give life to what is dead. I can move a hill to mountains’ domain and they won’t argue. I can throw the world into chaos and be praised. When I sit long enough; it is art. A mind can be set for this outcome. A person can image great future and greed. We have this power to march for one. We have this power to march for all. An unmovable object walks into a room. Does the room move with it? Or does it still stay? An unstoppable object steps on dry land. Does it crack? Or does it stay together? We are not malleable for a reason. But we can be broken with such few spaces. Such small and uneasy movements from across the world. It can be miles; but next to us. It’s impossible to march if no one knows how to dance. To waltz into trouble is easier than a solution’s dream. It is elegant and depressing as the same. We can compare scars but stay clothed and masked for others. We sometimes don’t miss when we cut. Sometimes the gun goes off. When a fire burns; it won’t be put out quick enough. This is real. This is life. But words mean more. Word mean more than actions because words are forever. A page can be lost and found. Paper can be cut and burned. But it’s still there in the mind of the writer. It’s still there in the mind of the poet. We as humans have the ability to move the hills. Move the world. But we care to not join. We, as many others, keep straight. We fall into the lines given ease. Giving the ease a way into the mindset of strength. Too much hate. Too much greed. Too much misunderstood points and confusion. We want to identify as something else to make us special. We want to be different than the person better than us. We worry about who said this and what they had done today. We look at horrifying things all day and change a picture to match it. We are numb. We are ignorant. We are invincible. And that’s sad.
Nov 6, 2017
Nov 6, 2017 at 10:49 PM UTC
I've tailored so many suits,
Switching out mismatched buttons for shining brass,
And restoring fabric worn thin over years of well-loved use.
But I cannot tailor this traitorous skin to fit me right.
In some placed it's too lose,
In others too tight…
I cannot switch out the pieces of me I'd rather live without
For new pieces shining with pride.
There is no way to restore a body to what it should have been,
Or even to the simple majesty of what it once was.
Young and ignorant of its uneven seams.
I've hemmed ladies' skirts to the perfect lengths
So they no longer need to worry about tripping over the excess.
Hemmed them to show just the right amount of ankle
Or perhaps none at all..
But I cannot hem myself..
This excess emotion staining my voice denoted me as "she."
And I trip over my own voice that no longer fits in my mouth..
While gorgeous girls in gowns show off thin strips of themselves,
I am left trying to hide every piece of my skin.
This is why I have risked sunstroke in the dead of summer
Wearing a hoodie and jeans to keep me safe.
This is why swimming pools are often synonymous with nightmare.
I no longer know how to wear this body with pride.
So when they ask me when I knew I wasn't a girl…
I have to restrain my urge to laugh and cry all at once.
Because when do we know that something is not as perfect as we once thought..
Only once it has been shown to us and we've been told to fix it.
I wish I could go back to being ignorant of my uneven seams.
These uneven seams that I cannot rip out unless I want to bleed out.
These uneven seams that I will never be able to fix to perfection.
But maybe…
Slowly,
Ever so slowly,
We might be able to stretch the seams of this world.
So that no child has to learn to hate or fear
Their jagged edges
Their unhemmable spaces…
…
…
…
…
But I cannot be one of those children..
So I will use chemicals to hem my voice..
Readjust my buttons…
Stretch my seams…
I will find a seamster more experienced then I
To rip out these traitorous strings
And rearrange the fabric to a more seemly drape.
I will use new fabric to cover up the patterns I am no longer proud of…
The patterns that cloud my days…
I will mend my ways
Learning to live in a patchwork maze
Until my spirit can return to where it truly belongs
In a beautiful blaze.
- EPL 11/6/2017
Nov 6, 2017
Nov 6, 2017 at 10:41 PM UTC
Nobody falls for you,
you only fall for yourself
Your head stuck on a shelf
Nothing but your ego left to sell
But you couldnt let it go
This hell is already here and melded
Manipulation and consideration-
All a grey shield
Its already been welded.
No space for
Me.
May 9, 2017
May 9, 2017 at 6:18 PM UTC
Now that you are asleep dear I can think clearly about us.
The two people that we were, we are, and that we are becoming;
And while sometimes it terrifies me right now it merely brings a small smile to my face.
Because we are still here. Together. After nearly a two years and a half. The longest I have stayed by someone's side like this.
Bridging the gap between friends and lovers, and I think I could stay like this for years to come if only the stars will smile upon us.
But just like the stars I will wander, and because of that I worry when you call me your world. I have never wanted to be someone's world - especially not after seeing what can happen to someone who builds their universe around another whom they might eventually come to lose.
I do not want to be your galaxy, or your world, or your everything because…
Darling, my darling, my dear..
Your world is not a single people or even three.. Your world is everything you make it to be. It is everything you have ever done. Everything you will do. It is every song you sing. Every game you play. Every word you speak. And every life you touch and change.
I am just a small - though I'd like to believe important - piece to that vast and still growing space.
And, dear one. Though I know you would stand against this, I know that in the end I am just as replaceable as everyone on this Earth within your life. And though you may not understand that makes what we have all the sweeter for me. Because I don't long for forever anymore. Just for now and however long now can last.. If it's the rest of our lives then I'll rejoice, but if not I'm glad to have l retaught you what it means like to fall fast. To fall fast into love.
I hope I never have to teach you what it means to fall out of love like a thunderstorm beating it's refrain against our hearts.. but if I ever do just remember that just as I filled parts of a void left in your life by another special someone, another sweet human will come along to remind you what it means to smile again.
But they will not pick up your shards because my darling you are not glass. You are a will and soul of iron. You may be dented and bent sometimes, but you will never be broken. That next person will warm your soul.. They will fill up a place which you thought was lost to someone of the past. Perhaps me. Perhaps another. Regardless they will fill it just as you will fill something in them, and the warmth will let you change again. In the end they will welcome you into the forge of their hearts and you will either come out dented again yet stronger for it or stronger still than that with a bit more of your old shape now sharpened into a steel of comfort. Either way you will grow..
Just keep growing. With me by your side. Lets grown together for now because we still have so much farther to go. Do not think of yourself as old. You are merely aging. No time has been wasted because we are all aging; and sometimes a 10 year old can be older than a 50 year old. Age is a number it is the experiences we have lived which give us our growth, and right now we are still in a stage where we can be so very naive like babes yet in the swaddling cloth. How else would we have thought about forever in regards to two souls.
Despite this though. I wish to stand by you till the end of whatever we are. Until we can no longer shield, and guide, and care for one another. You have helped teach me to go from a place where I thought my body was all I could give as a token of care for another person to a place where I know my worth is more than what is written in my flesh.
So, my wolf... My Irish Lycanthrope.. Do not call me or make me your moon or your world.. Just allow me to be another treasured piece of the life you are building knowing that though you can live on without me.. You don't want to for now.
Just let me stand by your side, and that will be enough for however long the fates have appointed to us.
Apr 29, 2017
Apr 29, 2017 at 3:28 AM UTC
ill bite my lip
hard
i hate the taste of blood
but suddenly i need it
i need to feel it
on my tongue
down my throat
in my neck
red
like the sea that moses split
in the stories i used to believe and read as a child
but i dont read too much anymore
its a shame really
i could be so smart
wasted potential
i could be so **** smart
wasted space
I could be SO **** SMART
wasted air
I COULD BE SO ******* SMART
WASTED
and as i look back i see a shadow of who i once was
and a shadow of who i could be
and both of those shadows
both of those shadows
are much more beautiful than me
Apr 27, 2017
Apr 27, 2017 at 4:52 PM UTC
We are not shattered glass for you to attempt to piece back together only to cut yourself using that shed blood as an excuse for us owing you.. We are not shattered glass. We are iron.. Dented by the toils of this world, and the fires of your abuse are tempering us into steel..
... We will steal ourselves away from you time and time again until our hearts learn to understand the difference between love and abuse. Until our hearts learn the meaning of the word "No."... And until yours. do. too.
- EPL (EtherealOmega)
Apr 17, 2017
Apr 17, 2017 at 11:17 PM UTC
Sometimes when I think of you
I wish I had all the money in the world
because I want to give you all the finer things
the expensive dinners
the diamond rings
the designer clothes
the tropical vacations
the pearls
the shoes
and basically
every material
desire in this world.
Sometimes when I think of you
I wish I had nothing, nothing at all
because a man with nothing has time
to make love on a blanket
under the star-lit night sky
to kiss you a thousand times
to count the individual lines
inside of your eyes
until he knew them all
like his own reflection
he has time
to listen when you cry
and promise that it'll be all right,
even when he doesn't know
he wants you to know
it'll be all right.
He has time
to hold you tight,
he has time
he has time
he has time
for you.
Sometimes when I think of you
I wish I didn't have to choose
Sep 7, 2016
Sep 7, 2016 at 11:56 AM UTC
Black loom the crags of the uplands behind me,
Dark are the sands of the far-stretching shore.
Dim are the pathways and rocks that remind me
Sadly of years in the lost Nevermore.
Soft laps the ocean on wave-polish'd boulder,
Sweet is the sound and familiar to me;
Here, with her head gently bent to my shoulder,
Walk'd I with Unda, the Bride of the Sea.
Bright was the morn of my youth when I met her,
Sweet as the breeze that blew o'er the brine.
Swift was I captur'd in Love's strongest fetter,
Glad to be here, and she glad to be mine.
Never a question ask'd I where she wander'd,
Never a question ask'd she of my birth:
Happy as children, we thought not nor ponder'd,
Glad of the bounty of ocean and earth.
Once when the moonlight play'd soft 'mid the billows,
High on the cliff o'er the waters we stood,
Bound was her hair with a garland of willows,
Pluck'd by the fount in the bird-haunted wood.
Strangely she gaz'd on the surges beneath her,
Charm'd with the sound or entranc'd by the light:
Then did the waves a wild aspect bequeath her,
Stern as the ocean and weird as the night.
Coldly she left me, astonish'd and weeping,
Standing alone 'mid the legions she bless'd:
Down, ever downward, half gliding, half creeping,
Stole the sweet Unda in oceanward quest.
Calm grew the sea, and tumultuous beating
Turn'd to a ripple as Unda the fair
Trod the wet sands in affectionate greeting,
Beckon'd to me, and no longer was there!
Long did I pace by the banks where she vanish'd,
High climb'd the moon and descended again.
Grey broke the dawn till the sad night was banish'd,
Still ach'd my soul with its infinite pain.
All the wide world have I search'd for my darling;
Scour'd the far desert and sail'd distant seas.
Once on the wave while the tempest was snarling,
Flash'd a fair face that brought quiet and ease.
Ever in restlessness onward I stumble
Seeking and pining scarce heeding my way.
Now have I stray'd where the wide waters rumble,
Back to the scene of the lost yesterday.
Lo! the red moon from the ocean's low hazes
Rises in ominous grandeur to view;
Strange is its face as my tortur'd eye gazes
O'er the vast reaches of sparkle and blue.
Straight from the moon to the shore where I'm sighing
Grows a bright bridge made of wavelets and beams.
Frail it may be, yet how simple the trying,
Wand'ring from earth to the orb of sweet dreams.
What is yon face in the moonlight appearing;
Have I at last found the maiden that fled?
Out on the beam-bridge my footsteps are nearing
Her whose sweet beckoning hastens my tread.
Current's surround me, and drowsily swaying,
Far on the moon-path I seek the sweet face.
Eagerly, hasting, half panting, half praying,
Forward I reach for the vision of grace.
Murmuring waters about me are closing,
Soft the sweet vision advances to me.
Done are my trials; my heart is reposing
Safe with my Unda, the Bride of the Sea.
Jul 19, 2016
Jul 19, 2016 at 9:29 PM UTC
I had a dream
That life was joyful and free
One minute has passed
And I’m still in glee
No one should fear life
No one should fear death
There’s no time for this or that
Please just take a deep breath
Life will never be perfect
Nor will it be fair
But for all the perfect times
It all makes you aware
That life is precious
Jul 3, 2016
Jul 3, 2016 at 12:56 PM UTC