Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
imaravagles
imaravagles
i prefer lefting over writing.
i oversaturate everything i love till they feel like empty husks of people who used to mean something to me. the more time i spend keeping them close at bay, the more i find myself worrying that they will tire of me. the sparks will fizzle out, the glamour of the mystery will wear and tear as the curtain falls to reveal the only ugly and all too real parts of myself i have left. where am i going when i am growing alone? must i always run away to feel like i am worthy- like i am interesting- like i am more than the shiny stories i tell of myself? if i continue to be this way will i always find the path of life too narrow to allow for another to walk alongside me? where will i find myself if all i am doing is running? there are times when i feel as if home is the only place i ever want to be but it is also the prison in which i always feel lesser of myself. lonely are the hearts that believe they need to escape to find themselves only to come back and realize they are stuck with every one of their million faces.
0
Jul 12, 2022
Jul 12, 2022 at 6:33 AM UTC
retirement
sometimes i wonder if i am lying to myself. too often i find that i am creating fiction out of the mundane. perhaps that's the storyteller in me. but also part of me knows it's the scared little girl always afraid of giving too much away- a magician who keeps her cards up her sleeve too careful to to reveal the trick until the curtains close, the audience bows out, and the theatre is nothing but an empty husk of echoes and dead applause. what you see is nothing but an illusion of who i wish i were but how i wish it were more than just a carefully crafted fantasy. this charade is getting old. this heart is growing cold. someday, gravity will catch up with this fantasy, and the walls will come tumbling down. but till then, i'll keep my story shut, and repaint this smile while the world looks the other way
0
Apr 27, 2021
Apr 27, 2021 at 9:39 AM UTC
smoke and mirrors
when do people ever feel like they are the real deal everyday i'm running round trying to find my own sound there are dagger eyes in my face telling me i'll never be good enough to take up my own space maybe one day i'll step out of the shadows towards a stage worth shining a light on but till then i'm working in the rafters trying to collect stories until they feel like they're worth telling there's a little saying you'll never know till you go you gotta start somewhere but somewhere always feels a little further away than i can reach the things i wanna be the person i hope to become is always a mile ahead help me take the leap till then i'll always be scraping my feet on the road beneath her shadow
0
Feb 13, 2021
Feb 13, 2021 at 10:45 PM UTC
imposter