SantaFlaws - Hello Poetry

It's been a while. I've been around one too many Too many times to see any The shapes all meet the same ending And it's been a while. I'm coming down The mountaintop was kinda nice But I really hated all the ice I could see it all, even my vice But now I'm coming down I'm in the valley I missed the walking in between The subtle smell and the dew's sheen, Missed people who know what I've seen I'm back in the valley. But I'm not alone. The valley's big enough for two Two people both of whom Like to say "I'll stay with you" No, I'm not alone.

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Jan 1, 2016

Jan 1, 2016 at 5:09 PM UTC

SantaFlaws

Back Alley Generator

It's been a while. I've been around one too many Too many times to see any The shapes all meet the same ending And it's been a while. I'm coming down The mountaintop was kinda nice But I really hated all the ice I could see it all, even my vice But now I'm coming down I'm in the valley I missed the walking in between The subtle smell and the dew's sheen, Missed people who know what I've seen I'm back in the valley. But I'm not alone. The valley's big enough for two Two people both of whom Like to say "I'll stay with you" No, I'm not alone.

20

I wish you'd come home. We sleep in different beds, Eat at different tables, And read different papers, But I miss you. For the longest time I was scared of you. Scared of what you could do, Or who you could do it with. But I was ok with all that Cause you'd come home. You'd leave one day, And not say a word. But I didn't worry, Cause you're strong. And you'd come home. It seems now though something changed Like you're scared to come home Like there's a trap waiting for you Maybe it's just me I wish you'd come home. Cause I always loved your travel Loved the smile it gave you Loved the look you'd have The joy when you eventually returned When you'd come home. So please, just call. Write me a letter or a message. Cause I miss you, And I worry about you, Cause you haven't yet come home.

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Dec 22, 2015

Dec 22, 2015 at 6:11 PM UTC

SantaFlaws

Brave Travelers Need Rest Too

I wish you'd come home. We sleep in different beds, Eat at different tables, And read different papers, But I miss you. For the longest time I was scared of you. Scared of what you could do, Or who you could do it with. But I was ok with all that Cause you'd come home. You'd leave one day, And not say a word. But I didn't worry, Cause you're strong. And you'd come home. It seems now though something changed Like you're scared to come home Like there's a trap waiting for you Maybe it's just me I wish you'd come home. Cause I always loved your travel Loved the smile it gave you Loved the look you'd have The joy when you eventually returned When you'd come home. So please, just call. Write me a letter or a message. Cause I miss you, And I worry about you, Cause you haven't yet come home.

30

Derailed huh? Like the train is off the track? Maybe. Or maybe not. Like the train took a wrong turn. I think. The wrong junction. Diverted at the wrong intersection. Maybe. Conductor confused. Wondering where it went wrong. Yeah. But still You're on the tracks love. No doubt.

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Oct 4, 2015

Oct 4, 2015 at 6:44 PM UTC

SantaFlaws

Derailed?

Derailed huh? Like the train is off the track? Maybe. Or maybe not. Like the train took a wrong turn. I think. The wrong junction. Diverted at the wrong intersection. Maybe. Conductor confused. Wondering where it went wrong. Yeah. But still You're on the tracks love. No doubt.

15

Hey. See those leaves falling? Those ones you thought were dead? Maybe they are. But I don't think so. I think they're just moving along. They're caught up in the wind. But they're ok with that. They're going places. You are too you know.

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Sep 3, 2015

Sep 3, 2015 at 9:06 PM UTC

SantaFlaws

Get Some Rest

Hey. See those leaves falling? Those ones you thought were dead? Maybe they are. But I don't think so. I think they're just moving along. They're caught up in the wind. But they're ok with that. They're going places. You are too you know.

10

Thank you for the spear head. Thank you for this blade. The snow drifts, and so do I. In snow drifts, my few tears turn to ice With slow shifts, my fears crystallize And with those hips, I know it's all a lie With your rose lips, I'm falling in deeper The wind froze ships, they're nothing but sleepers Then you stole trips, I'm running a fever The green line blips, heart follows the leader You don't owe me, you never did You don't own me, I'm my fathers kid You trying to show me how to open the lid But it's all me, and what I did. There's a glow see, and it sure ain't mine My covers blown see, I'm not hard to find There's a show fee, to pull the curtains aside And with this slow breeze, I'll fly on by. Thank you for the passing glance Thank you for this useless dance.

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Sep 3, 2015

Sep 3, 2015 at 3:26 PM UTC

SantaFlaws

I Use Kelvins

Thank you for the spear head. Thank you for this blade. The snow drifts, and so do I. In snow drifts, my few tears turn to ice With slow shifts, my fears crystallize And with those hips, I know it's all a lie With your rose lips, I'm falling in deeper The wind froze ships, they're nothing but sleepers Then you stole trips, I'm running a fever The green line blips, heart follows the leader You don't owe me, you never did You don't own me, I'm my fathers kid You trying to show me how to open the lid But it's all me, and what I did. There's a glow see, and it sure ain't mine My covers blown see, I'm not hard to find There's a show fee, to pull the curtains aside And with this slow breeze, I'll fly on by. Thank you for the passing glance Thank you for this useless dance.

20

The world is a loud place friends. Full of all kinds of chatter and noise People walk by and act tough Their problems are true too though. I walked by the other day, Though you probably didn't see. You're inside your head too aren't you? It's an affliction after all. I though when I got out into it all When I turned up the volume high enough The headache would go away Maybe I'd be able to cry again But no, sound can't eliminate other sound It can only drown it out And when the noise slowly fades, The ache is still there. It's not gone. It seems like it won't ever will be. Maybe I'll just drown it out with you Drown it, but not me. At least, that's what I hope.

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Aug 24, 2015

Aug 24, 2015 at 2:21 PM UTC

SantaFlaws

Loud World, Quiet Mind

The world is a loud place friends. Full of all kinds of chatter and noise People walk by and act tough Their problems are true too though. I walked by the other day, Though you probably didn't see. You're inside your head too aren't you? It's an affliction after all. I though when I got out into it all When I turned up the volume high enough The headache would go away Maybe I'd be able to cry again But no, sound can't eliminate other sound It can only drown it out And when the noise slowly fades, The ache is still there. It's not gone. It seems like it won't ever will be. Maybe I'll just drown it out with you Drown it, but not me. At least, that's what I hope.

21

Gotta stay sane boys. That's what they expect after all. That's what they think they'll see. But is it? Or is it different? I jabbed myself with my own pen though. It's bleeding now, making me rethink writing Do I write and run the risk? Or do I stop and go numb? Who knows really? You'll read this. You'll think it's too much. And then you'll click away. But before you do, remember. Masks are easy to put on.

0

Aug 24, 2015

Aug 24, 2015 at 2:11 PM UTC

SantaFlaws

Outnumbered

Gotta stay sane boys. That's what they expect after all. That's what they think they'll see. But is it? Or is it different? I jabbed myself with my own pen though. It's bleeding now, making me rethink writing Do I write and run the risk? Or do I stop and go numb? Who knows really? You'll read this. You'll think it's too much. And then you'll click away. But before you do, remember. Masks are easy to put on.

15

Alright guys here it is. No more rhymes to hide behind. I've got a lot to say and not a lot of time. So let's get into it. I'm the kid in the corner. I'm the one with my head down. I'm the one who sits alone. I'm the one who kinda likes it. I may act out in the spotlight, Crack a joke and get a laugh. But in the end I'm still the one alone. It's how it is. For a long time I told myself I didn't care. That the opinions of others didn't matter. It never worked like I wanted. But I soon figured it out. The best defenses are assumed. Not hidden, and not proclaimed. These are the defenses that last. Because they are simply a part of it all. I had learned that the best way to hide my fear, The way to hide my doubt Was to act like it was nothing And to simply move on with myself. The scary thing is, that worked. I doubt many know this. But I'm crippled by insecurity A poison I can't defeat. I care what you think, I care when you notice It's sad, but overwhelmingly true. The anxiety I feel a lot of the time Comes from the depths of who I am. So go ahead, say that thing. Tell me I dress stupid, or look dumb. I'll retort back sharply and walk away, But that sting will last. My memory is too good. Sometimes it feels like a curse honestly. Because I remember each thing said, Both good and bad. So for those who took the time To step aside and say hello, Thank you for being there for me, Cause I guarantee I needed it. So to everyone reading this Who never knew this before, I'm too emotional for my own good, And I hide behind that well-known pride. Did I strike you as cocky? I wanted to. Did I strike you as prideful? I needed to. How else would I hide from myself? I think I'm done with this poem now. I hope you all understand. It's not anything someone did wrong. No, it's just me. So enjoy picking my brain, Getting a peek at the small introvert inside. He's a sorry soul indeed, I feel bad for him honestly He's trapped in his confessional. The walls keep closing in. He talks to the walls, for hours and hours, His head begins to spin. He opens cans of worms and beans, And tends to spill the latter, Though no matter how long or hard he tries, His confessions makes him sadder. So pity the poor man you see Have mercy on him won't you please? It's up to you my closest friends. He's on his very knees. Listen to his confessions. Listen closely, lest he fail All he says is steeped in pain His words could tip the scale. My confession is over now My time in here is done. To all you listening in, This really has been fun. I'll walk away with my head held high My heart, not so much. I care too much what you think of me My defenses, my very crutch. Don't forget. Never forget. He loves to love quite deeply. So if you need an introverted, sad, emotional, hopeful, or quiet friend? Come and see me.

0

Jul 6, 2015

Jul 6, 2015 at 9:07 PM UTC

SantaFlaws

Confessional

Alright guys here it is. No more rhymes to hide behind. I've got a lot to say and not a lot of time. So let's get into it. I'm the kid in the corner. I'm the one with my head down. I'm the one who sits alone. I'm the one who kinda likes it. I may act out in the spotlight, Crack a joke and get a laugh. But in the end I'm still the one alone. It's how it is. For a long time I told myself I didn't care. That the opinions of others didn't matter. It never worked like I wanted. But I soon figured it out. The best defenses are assumed. Not hidden, and not proclaimed. These are the defenses that last. Because they are simply a part of it all. I had learned that the best way to hide my fear, The way to hide my doubt Was to act like it was nothing And to simply move on with myself. The scary thing is, that worked. I doubt many know this. But I'm crippled by insecurity A poison I can't defeat. I care what you think, I care when you notice It's sad, but overwhelmingly true. The anxiety I feel a lot of the time Comes from the depths of who I am. So go ahead, say that thing. Tell me I dress stupid, or look dumb. I'll retort back sharply and walk away, But that sting will last. My memory is too good. Sometimes it feels like a curse honestly. Because I remember each thing said, Both good and bad. So for those who took the time To step aside and say hello, Thank you for being there for me, Cause I guarantee I needed it. So to everyone reading this Who never knew this before, I'm too emotional for my own good, And I hide behind that well-known pride. Did I strike you as cocky? I wanted to. Did I strike you as prideful? I needed to. How else would I hide from myself? I think I'm done with this poem now. I hope you all understand. It's not anything someone did wrong. No, it's just me. So enjoy picking my brain, Getting a peek at the small introvert inside. He's a sorry soul indeed, I feel bad for him honestly He's trapped in his confessional. The walls keep closing in. He talks to the walls, for hours and hours, His head begins to spin. He opens cans of worms and beans, And tends to spill the latter, Though no matter how long or hard he tries, His confessions makes him sadder. So pity the poor man you see Have mercy on him won't you please? It's up to you my closest friends. He's on his very knees. Listen to his confessions. Listen closely, lest he fail All he says is steeped in pain His words could tip the scale. My confession is over now My time in here is done. To all you listening in, This really has been fun. I'll walk away with my head held high My heart, not so much. I care too much what you think of me My defenses, my very crutch. Don't forget. Never forget. He loves to love quite deeply. So if you need an introverted, sad, emotional, hopeful, or quiet friend? Come and see me.

89

Gotta stay sane boys. That's what they expect after all. That's what they think they'll see. But is it? Or is it different? I jabbed myself with my own pen though. It's bleeding now, making me rethink writing Do I write and run the risk? Or do I stop and go numb? Who knows really? You'll read this. You'll think it's too much. And then you'll click away. But before you do, remember. Masks are easy to put on.

0

Jun 18, 2015

Jun 18, 2015 at 5:01 PM UTC

SantaFlaws

Outnumbered

Gotta stay sane boys. That's what they expect after all. That's what they think they'll see. But is it? Or is it different? I jabbed myself with my own pen though. It's bleeding now, making me rethink writing Do I write and run the risk? Or do I stop and go numb? Who knows really? You'll read this. You'll think it's too much. And then you'll click away. But before you do, remember. Masks are easy to put on.

15

Look at me Do you see my crying? Just wait and see Cause there's two of us dying No it's plain to see You need a transfusion New life force to help you Break through your illusion Break through all the lies That you've come to believe All the lies that bring people Down to their knees They need some new life A new heart to beat on Beating and marching Till their hearts are gone Drop my hand my friend It's really quite ok This blood I give you freely So you get through the day I've drawn my blood on purpose Dragged a knife clear and clean The blood is coming freely now And with it, please be freed. You think my blood is on your hands Think you're the one in foreign lands But it's not on your hands It's in your heart Blood given freely's a form of art No it's not a wound, No scar will form It's precise my friend The way I've been torn I've pricked myself clean, The needle was true This blood is a gift This blood is for you. My friend it's over. There's not much to say. To pull blood with syringes You must pull away.

0

Jun 7, 2015

Jun 7, 2015 at 10:43 PM UTC

SantaFlaws

Transfusion

Look at me Do you see my crying? Just wait and see Cause there's two of us dying No it's plain to see You need a transfusion New life force to help you Break through your illusion Break through all the lies That you've come to believe All the lies that bring people Down to their knees They need some new life A new heart to beat on Beating and marching Till their hearts are gone Drop my hand my friend It's really quite ok This blood I give you freely So you get through the day I've drawn my blood on purpose Dragged a knife clear and clean The blood is coming freely now And with it, please be freed. You think my blood is on your hands Think you're the one in foreign lands But it's not on your hands It's in your heart Blood given freely's a form of art No it's not a wound, No scar will form It's precise my friend The way I've been torn I've pricked myself clean, The needle was true This blood is a gift This blood is for you. My friend it's over. There's not much to say. To pull blood with syringes You must pull away.

41