you are
sitting there,
watching me
from the sidelines,
sipping on your lemonade,
telling me that
I can make it through
the blood
the sweat
&
the tears
however
when the timer runs out
you say
"maybe next time"
'cause the goal still wasn't made
Jul 23, 2020
Jul 23, 2020 at 6:00 PM UTC
you couldn’t imagine
the
pains all over
Being
Fixed rigid
from
The
Shot
Another
pain in my gut
A horrible throb, throb, throb
it seemed to me that
I could not
Even if I tried to
Get
Out of the line of fire
Aug 11, 2018
Aug 11, 2018 at 1:00 PM UTC
I can hear him knocking at the door
I feel the rhythm of the beating in my chest and head.
It overwhelms me, bleeding down into my core,
my heartstrings hanging by a single thread.
I cannot handle your lingering presence anymore.
I am exhausted from a constant state of dread;
an endless game of tug of war
contemplating all of the things I’ve left unsaid.
Compiling a collection of unfinished memoirs
abandoned and stranded in my mind instead.
He is here, choosing which wounds to reopen into deeper sores
I lay awaiting the temporary passage of this bloodshed.
Feb 20, 2018
Feb 20, 2018 at 3:13 PM UTC
This heavy feeling in my chest sinks
while eyes like wells swell and stream down in streaks
I lay awakened in the darkness
as it wraps around my sudden sadness
It holds me here, constricted;
by my own self I am convicted
to this cell, a hell I call home,
the only place I have ever roamed
The ghost of my past haunts me,
a never-ending reminder of what once was and what could be
Lost: in space, in time, in thought
I am the forgotten and distraught
Feb 6, 2018
Feb 6, 2018 at 4:30 PM UTC
SMELL
my favorite, old,
yet loved book;
the yellowed pages
bent at the corner
as bookmarks,
and
margins full of notes
SEE
a young adult
with a goofy aura,
a gentle smile,
and
an adventurous look
that never leaves your eyes
TASTE
your kisses
are addicting
and
sweet like honey
TOUCH
soft
and
tender
yet
aggressively intimate
HEAR
your voice
calm and relaxing,
your laughter
is music to my ears
and
authentic
FEEL
(as this is different from touch)
warm
and
cozy,
it comforts me,
safe
and
protected,
on a rainy day indoors
curled into your arms
home is where the heart is
and
it beats for you
Nov 19, 2017
Nov 19, 2017 at 12:25 AM UTC
in your honey golden eyes
the sweetness I must see
matches the beauty of a sunrise
over a vast and endless sea
you are as ever changing
as the moon's many phases
yet while we continue aging
I catch those same loving gazes
youthfulness at its finest
we grow a garden of hearts;
from low points to the highest
till death do us part
Nov 17, 2017
Nov 17, 2017 at 5:05 PM UTC
As I am falling backwards,
time and energy escape
my ever so desperate grasp
Yet I am made of matter,
it does not occur that I do
to anyone in the surrounding rooms
and I feel alone
The existence I am in space
only feels like another waste
of this mortal potentiality
and I am sorry
Nov 17, 2017
Nov 17, 2017 at 1:47 PM UTC
A woman full of menace and desire;
Freckles laced upon a pale complexion,
wide eyes colored a misty sapphire,
and ink-like locks resting in opposition.
As an artist amidst her painted skin
she dreamt of love and moonlit nights,
confidence arose from a source within
while summoning her mystical insights.
Masses of books sprawled across a desk,
drawings with notes and candles afire,
a scene she considered quite picturesque;
a place of confinement in which she conspired.
A woman who is known by many monikers:
sorceress, occultist, clairvoyant, bewitcher.
Jul 18, 2017
Jul 18, 2017 at 3:30 PM UTC
Some days I feel the need to express
how I feel through words on a page
but instead I retreat, nonetheless,
to a darkness of solitude
where I tend to spend my time
concentrating on one’s fortitude.
Lethargically indifferent as I seem,
it is a façade that deeply masks
the emotions within my bloodstream.
The idol of being a helpless maiden
has eluded me of my reality;
For I keep myself barricaded in
this lonesome, desolate lair,
protected by my own unfortunate mind,
dwells as a pit of endless despair.
Shall I ever awake from such a dream
composed of awful, evil things
or is this, perhaps, the new regime?
Jul 11, 2017
Jul 11, 2017 at 1:08 AM UTC
lately the days have felt — long;
long with a touch of sadness
but this touch leaves more than a fingerprint;
an imprint soaking into the depths of my skin
like a drop of dark ink spreading through
a glass of once-clear water, now poisoned.
while the nights feel cut short,
the darkness fills me with bittersweet comfort.
it is calm, cool, and quiet and i am as content
as i am when the sunlight kisses my shoulders,
the warmth eases my tired soul
but it does not remove the ache in my chest.
the crackle of vinyl records
spark long awaited inspiration,
yet no words form and
no image paints this blank canvas.
an artist stuck in their own mind
does not make them less of one,
however,
the emptiness is a haunting void;
a sickness barricading creativity
from the so desired expression
craving to satisfy a blooming universe;
an overpowering slump — thick tar covers me
i am unable to move; it squeezes tighter
as i try to escape this entity
i want to scream but i choke on my words
while gasping for a small breath of air
i sink down
engulfed and surrounded
i regain composure as i close my eyes and drift.
the morning will soon come
and the song will repeat once again
Jun 18, 2017
Jun 18, 2017 at 10:55 PM UTC