It was like a dream,
only it wasn't.
It was a reality,
all wrapped up in fantasy.
It was a fantastic exploration,
of what if.
It was a fearsome adventure,
only it didn't last.
There was a terrible storm,
then silence.
there were people everywhere,
yet no one felt close to me.
there was a strange frustration, and anger inside me,
yet on the outside I felt as calm as could be.
there were thick strings attached, holding me,
yet I felt too free.
When there should have been happiness,
I was sad.
When joy and fulfillment came,
I was empty and longing.
When God answered my prays,
I wondered why the others were left unanswered.
When I closed my eyes to sleep,
I wondered if the tears would ever stop.
When I breathed,
I wondered if each pull and push of air was worth suffering life.
Then I tried faith,
But it wouldn't stick
Then it was hardwork, and reclusiveness,
it was empty and heartbreaking.
Then I tried reason and logic,
and it broke my spirit.
Then I tried to love myself, but it hurt,
because love always hurts.
I woke up from my dream that wasn't a dream,
from the reality wrapped up in fantasy.
I was slapped with the world,
because it tried to fit in me,
as did all the people
i love.
When i woke i realized,
I couldn't take them, the world, and me.
There was only room for two.
One had to be me.
The other.....
was a tough choice.
I chose the world,
It hurt...
May 21, 2016
May 21, 2016 at 2:26 AM UTC
Give me the sorrow, pain, fear, and anger.
Give me the things that people hate and I’ll smooth out the ruffles.
They’ll make me stronger.
They’ll help me love you.
I see a paragon of virtue in the flaws.
Give me the weakness, and I’ll find its use.
I want the castoffs.
I know their value.
I sit,
Cross-legged by the fire.
The box meant to contain imperfections.
I linger over each, loathing, pity, regret, fear,
My fingers curl over each piece.
My mind caresses the memory.
I change them,
I rewrite the weak,
Strengthen the lesser.
Broken pieces can solidify beautifully.
I swallow the pain, and anger,
Completely neutral outside.
I give a cleanliness to the soul,
At the risk of my own.
If you were to ask…
I’d give honesty.
The fractured pieces demand to be heard.
They scream from their container.
They poke and **** but I swallow it down.
If you ask…
It’s beautifully colored glass,
Broken, healed and broken again.
I can break, but I’ll be whole again.
Colors, defects, knowing and using them
that’s what makes me,
Flawless.
Dec 30, 2014
Dec 30, 2014 at 6:28 PM UTC
Come with me,
please.
Come.
Into the night,
let it wrap us up.
It will smother us in kisses,
tells us all the wonderful, lies of love, life, and happiness.
Be trapped with me,
please.
Let us embrace the dark,
the right natural world, and live.
Shed you mortal chains,
and come into the illuminating dark.
please.
Escape with me,
please.
Into the far reaches of the shadows,
discover with me, lost vitality, love, and life.
Forsake the light for the dark,
let the judgments and shame be forsaken.
Receive with me,
please.
The kisses of darkness,
the illumination of all that is natural and right in the night.
Realize all that the light has rejected.
breathe the free air of the darkness.
Kiss and embrace new life,
reborn free of shame, regret, and worry.
Share with me,
please.
the immortal dark light.
Oct 22, 2014
Oct 22, 2014 at 12:02 AM UTC
There's a box, a relatively old and beaten down piece of cardboard.
It's been rained on, ****** on, thrown up in.
This box is weak around the edges, it's barely holding up.
This box is one reality is threatening to crush.
It's the one people put you in,
so that in the next minute they can write you off.
I know this person they want to fit in that worn old box,
it's the same box I fit in.
They're not different.
I tore up my box,
I realized I wanted several things,
and the box, with it's weakening walls and ideals,
wanted to shame me for it.
I stomped and tore up that box,
because it said things I didn't agree with.
It complicated simple delights, like love, pain, hurt, anger and regret.
It hurt my soul and entire being.
When being in the box, is
more harmful than helpful,
crush that **** up.
Lay it flat,
and wall all over it's weak walls.
Feel it compress and bend to your will.
Free yourself of the **** and *****
It's the only way to live,
Outside the box.
Sep 10, 2014
Sep 10, 2014 at 7:08 PM UTC
I loved thousands of loves once,
I loved the sun,
the sky,
the rain,
the clouds.
I loved my family.
I loved my pets.
I loved the old couple still in love after fifty years,
I loved the angry driver on the highway who nearly clipped me.
I loved the man on the street asking for help.
I loved everyone and everything,
Until the world told me it was wrong.
Until they told me it was improper and not right,
I had thousands of loves,
and lived without one fight.
The world broke me down,
the people I loved, (Rightly), shot down my love.
Made it smaller and less like an infinite piece of me.
Everyday I look not for careers, or jobs, or work,
I look for my thousands of loves, and hope one day I'll feel whole again.
Jul 18, 2014
Jul 18, 2014 at 12:29 AM UTC
I can unravel my secrets
flaunt my inner mystery
still my racing heart
and just let it all be.
I can grow out of my sorrow
shed the old skin of my former self.
taken in my burning rage
and let myself be happy.
I could sow joy and peace,
reflect back only good intentions.
Live life full and without worry.
and be whole.
I could go as far as I wish.
Travel and never be missed.
Happily blending in with the crowd
and be utterly lost in the world's sea
I can and could be good or bad.
Do right and wrong.
Lose my way
and then move on.
But,
C'est la vie.
Jul 14, 2014
Jul 14, 2014 at 11:51 PM UTC
It use to follow me.
High in the sky,
just far enough so I could see.
I wondered why,
then wished I could fly,
Just so I could ask,
Why is it you follow me?
I'd been driving,
just as the moon came arriving.
it followed me, through various trees and branches.
It followed me home, and wouldn't leave.
As a little girl I'd thought it was only for me.
That the moon was something only I could see.
I shooed it away,
and promised I'd allow it to come back another day.
Still it never went away.
I began to think of the moon,
as a passenger in my life.
It was always present, and reassuring in times of chaos and strife.
Only natural that I allowed it to become my friend.
My persistent passenger.
I'd forgotten about it now
older and more jaded.
I wonder why I'd forgotten.
Why I could only vaguely remember my simple wishes to fly.
Jul 10, 2014
Jul 10, 2014 at 12:44 PM UTC
In the park,
under the willow,
birds soar high in the sky,
the lake water runs gently,
the geese all walk along the grass,
around it.
I remember wishing to sit under it for shelter.
It was beautiful.
I burned for it as if somehow, it was supposed to be mine.
I didn't own it, not really.
It was oddly beautiful despite it's difference from regular trees.
It's branches were limp, it's leaves giving more cover and almost touching the ground.
It was odd.
I imagined that under the willow,
odd things were possible.
It made me believe in impossible things.
I learned to dream, by just
imaging what was under the willow tree.
Jul 9, 2014
Jul 9, 2014 at 4:03 AM UTC
I saw the sun,
Just over the forest trees,
reflected off the murky green lake water.
I saw it's light escaping briefly through the gaps in the branches.
I felt it's heat from a distance burn me up.
The gentle lake water rocked me back and forth.
The heat remained constant.
My heart beat steadied.
I breathed in the fresh air,
inhaling the day.
Eyes closed for a minute and felt the sting of light on my eyelids.
I drank it all in.
Tilting into the cool water for a moment.
The sand beneath my feet strangely soft.
I saw the day as it was, perfect.
Laughter jilted my frame, a smile broke across my face.
It felt easier to breathe that day,
and it was because I saw everything that day.
Jul 4, 2014
Jul 4, 2014 at 1:59 AM UTC
I can't grieve,
not for things I don't understand
not for things that haven't happened to me.
I can't offer you support or share your grief,
it's not my own and therefore, any emotions I feel or display,
is partially false.
I don't tell you this to be rude. I tell you because it's the truth.
It's a truth I feel I should expose. Don't ask me to grieve with you,
I cannot.
Don't ask me to feel and understand your pain always,
because I may not be able to.
Don't judge me for not being able to relate,
Sometimes it's just not possible.
In return I won't judge or ask of you anything I cannot do myself.
The truth is…I feel many things, deeply.
I feel pain, sorrow, anger, remorse, regret, happiness and nervousness.
I can feel them all but sometimes there are somethings I shut out.
Grieving, and experiences I myself have no idea how to handle or deal with. I shut them out, because sometimes there isn't room for more.
Truth, I think of myself as a cup.
I'm always filled to the brim with feelings to deal with.
If there's any room I'll share in yours. But trust me to decide if there's room.
The truth is I love too deeply, and care too much to feel much else. All I want is someone to understand that silence, repressed emotions, and anger are the only way I know to deal with it. I want someone to understand, I'm not being mean.
I'm surviving.
Jul 3, 2014
Jul 3, 2014 at 2:27 AM UTC