there must be a place where broken words go
the ones without a limb
not fully formed
not spoken right
not heard
there must be a place where broken words go
the sentences left uncompleted
the trailing words that never left the lips
the "but" and the "and"
that were always left hanging
somewhere between silence and speech
there must be a place where broken words go
full of stutters and writers block sufferers
somewhere between the "i love"
and the "you" that never followed
or the "wait"
that was whispered into the air
the "please come back"
that made peace with dying
on the corners of a turning mouth
there must be a place where broken words go
the words spoken but never heard
the letters written but never posted
the train of thought that crashed into the clouds
the words in the bottle that traveled the sea
but sunk to the bottom before it could ever reach
there must be a place where my broken words go
the stains on my diary that didn't come from a pen
and the letters on my thighs that don't make sense
the things i could never say
and the things i said that came out all wrong
all the broken alphabets in my song
that cry for salvation
for one more chance
there must be a place where broken words go
there must be a place i can call home.
Oct 31, 2016
Oct 31, 2016 at 5:38 AM UTC
I don't know what I'm doing
I don't know what I'm feeling
I don't know where I'm going
I don't know who I'm being
I'm overwhelmed,
frustrated,
I can't cope
These are the slogans
I repeat to myself
Over and over again
Oh yeah
I'm a failure too
I've lived this life
What did I do?
What do I have to
show for it?
These facts about myself
are the one thing
I'm very positive about.
I repeat these slogans
day in and day out
always wondering
what I'm so
depressed about
I bury my head in these sands
Suffocating
Smothering
choking on anxiety
in my own
advertising slogans
on my private airwaves
To complicate
matters
worse
just because we think something
doesn't make it true
that goes for
self worth too.
But
Mindfulness
stands
watching the passing cars
from a freeway overpass
like our racing thoughts
not holding on
not making them go away,
in peace
simply
letting them
be.
May 15, 2016
May 15, 2016 at 11:12 AM UTC
I know it's hard to touch the clouds
when memories
hold you down
I know you cry a lot inside
when no one is
around
I know it is hard to wake up
sometimes
when breathing cuts so deep.
and the birds, they sing
but
you cannot hear
and the sun, it shines
but
you cannot see
and there's a lot of warmth around
but
you cannot feel.
I know it feels so hard
to live
with so many scars
but
light will shine and you will
see
and birds will sing and
you will hear
It's just a dark path
you have to walk
and I will be there
to walk along
don't hold your breath
don't give up yet
just
keep your hope
and you'll find one day
that you can fly again
for you deserve
the highest clouds
the purest air
the deepest love.
and I'll be here for you,
you, dear soul,
the sweetest lyric
of them all.
Apr 4, 2016
Apr 4, 2016 at 6:39 PM UTC
freedom can be bare feet
or naked
or laughter
freedom can be poetry
Apr 4, 2016
Apr 4, 2016 at 6:38 PM UTC
In Florida sometimes it rains so hard
that you believe that it can't possibly stop,
that it will just rain and rain forever.
Sometimes I'd wake to a storm late at night,
and I'd sit out on the porch.
You could smell the lightning, and the coolness of the storm would
make your hair stand;
I'd feel so alive.
Some nights I'd go out, and my father
would be sitting on the porch already.
Lost in the storm
or maybe
called to it.
We wouldn't talk,
but we'd be lost together
in the rain and thunder.
Sometimes I wonder what of him
is left in me.
I am not sure
if I am more afraid of there being
very little
or of there being a great deal,
but when it rains
I think about him on that porch;
Apr 4, 2016
Apr 4, 2016 at 6:37 PM UTC
They told me to think of home
And home is usually a building or at least a town
But I never thought that when they told me to think of home
I would think of you
Apr 4, 2016
Apr 4, 2016 at 12:06 PM UTC
Who are we to say
that a love is not to be?
That a love does not belong
and can never be set free?
Who are we to think
that a kind is not our people?
That a kind is far beneath us
and will never be as equal?
Who are we to feel
that a face can look unusual?
That a face must be a canvas
and be painted to be beautiful?
Who are we to judge?
To say love is prohibited?
To think below of others?
To feel minds can be limited?
©
Apr 1, 2016
Apr 1, 2016 at 5:30 PM UTC
You think I left, tears in my eyes
When I just needed fresh air
To keep my nerves quiet, my soul pure
People like you need a heart,
Can't feel humanity streaming in their veins
And now I am the prisonner of your words
Oh little princess ! Don't you think it's time to throw your plastic crown away ?
And see what you have destroyed all around you
Selfish mind, ***** words blind you
Everyone around got hurt
Everything but your mean smile
Eyes full of admiration, eyes full of hate
You pretend to speak true words
When everyting you have done was being nasty
Because honesty is NOT a synonym of disrespect.
Mar 30, 2016
Mar 30, 2016 at 7:49 AM UTC