here i sit in melancholy,
the rain it falls so softly.
it stains my face as if i were crying
it leaves its trace, and falls without me.
so i sit. and gaze absentminded
lost in the past.
as i become apart of it, i try to fight
i run i claw i try and gain the lost ground.
i rage, i rage against the dying of my light.
i tear i scrape and i get by
ive raged for so long. i fear there is no more.
but what of the monster, with no purpose anymore
Feb 15, 2024
Feb 15, 2024 at 1:01 AM UTC
I sit here and write my heart,
Call it an art,
And expose my soul to the world
I sit here and struggle,
with problems that seem to double.
A never ending tirade,
that just makes me irate.
I smoke and drink to avoid my soul,
only for it to catch up the next day.
I struggle with reality and turn to words instead,
and yet i cant get out of my head.
The problems are never ending,
but neither are the words i right,
as i down the bottle
and prepare for the night.
May 12, 2021
May 12, 2021 at 10:17 PM UTC
The flower struggles to find ground,
Like a daisy in the daylight it shall flourish.
Breaking through the smallest crack,
The slightest ***** in your strong armor.
Slowly it grows with patience and determination, widening the gap crack.
Slowly you start to see, the beautiful flower,
Blooming in the sun light
Feb 9, 2021
Feb 9, 2021 at 12:11 PM UTC
Good job and well done
words not uttered since little.
You did good, you've changed,
just fanciful merriment's, never to be had.
All i wish, is to be heard, be seen,
but yet, you refuse to open your eyes.
You wish to peer over my shoulder,
And yet, you refuse even to stand up.
So what must i do to get you to praise?
Must I get college that you refuse to help?
Must I end war?
Or will you refuse to change yourself
All i wish is praise,
But i see now there is none.
None to be had, from an old hag,
None to be had, from those who raised me.
What did i do to disappoint?
You seek not to better yourself,
but only to put me down,
I've grown,
I wish to show you my wings,
But you only see the husk left behind.
For this i am hurt,
Disappointed,
I wish for you to grow with me,
but you make it clear that you wish to not,
Your seek not to change only to judge.
And for that you can only, go *** yourself.
Dec 18, 2020
Dec 18, 2020 at 4:46 PM UTC
Filters litter the ground around me,
Slowly they fall to the abyss.
Waiting for time around me,
To go amiss.
We wait for the filters to fall,
so we may see reality once.
And all the while,
it leaves us behind
Dec 18, 2020
Dec 18, 2020 at 12:33 PM UTC
Smoking alone on a corner,
wishing you were here,
asking for a smoke,
begging to be there
in that land far away
as we wait for the lane
to stop, so we walk.
Yet here I stand alone,
cigarette in hand,
Slowly going mad
how i wish you there,
asking me for a smoke,
so that i may tease you,
and make hearty jokes.
I wish you were there,
My angel my fae
I long for the day
where we go together,
waiting for the streetlights
roaming the city as if it were ours
not caring as we venture forth
My fae, my pixi, my darling dearest.
Soon, As soon as the moon rises and sets,
We shall take this town over,
we shall reign as queen and king,
we shall reign as monarchs,
ruling in secret, as not let the world
taint our love.
Dec 10, 2020
Dec 10, 2020 at 3:50 PM UTC
you speak of freedom as if its free
not knowing that there's a fee.
A fee of heart, a fee of soul,
A piece of nothing, that is ultimately everything
you speak of freedom,
but your not free.
you beg and plead and hope to understand
but its always just out of grasp
slipping through your fingers like sand
awakened by the harsh rasp at your door
telling you its time to go to war.
Freedoms not free.
not to you. not to me.
Dec 10, 2020
Dec 10, 2020 at 1:32 PM UTC
Love makes us liars, but not in the traditional sense
Love makes us liars, but not how you think
The smell of eggs fills the air, she made you breakfast.
You don't like eggs that much, but you swallow with a smile
You comment they are delicious.
All the while the thought of the lie is making you tense,
Only for you to lose your sense,
as you wake up the next day,
with eggs on your plate.
Dec 10, 2020
Dec 10, 2020 at 12:14 PM UTC
Running away.
A dream that all kids have, as they fight off imaginary pirates.
A dream we harbor as the harsh realities of life slowly creep up on us.
A dream that compromises.
"We shall run away next year when we get some money"
"We shall make a visit first to see if we really like it"
Slowly but surely the dream fades away.
To some cartoon version you see once a year.
Dec 10, 2020
Dec 10, 2020 at 12:11 PM UTC
The days after school,
like heaven slipping through your fingers,
no longer in our youth,
forever trapped in our age.
longing for the days,
after school
Dec 7, 2020
Dec 7, 2020 at 12:38 PM UTC