just-heather
English
My poems make little sense because my thoughts make little sense because my life makes little sense. / / I never class myself as a writer, 'cause I'm not one. I'm just some kid in the corner putting my nonsensical thoughts into words. / / Everything you need to know about me is probably in my poems somewhere. They're mostly autobiographical.
I want to escape
This cold, dreary town
Where people get high
Off dragging you down.
We'll make a new world
Where we can stay for a while,
Where people understand
And everyone smiles.
I'm tired of this Concrete Avenue
Where the sky is grey and the people are blue.
We'll build cities on clouds out of morning dew,
With rainbows in our souls, we'll see it through,
Me and you.
May 24, 2011
May 24, 2011 at 1:01 PM UTC
Mother, I have failed you,
Participated in the destruction
Of the beautiful land you gave us.
I have cleared away emerald life,
And replaced it with stone,
Building metal towers
As hollow as my soul.
Mother, I have failed you,
Joined the hunts and butchery
That so indifferently rip apart children.
A decade I stood strong
Against the cruelty of it all,
But I was weak, and they pushed,
And so, I did fall.
Mother, I have failed you,
Disobeying natural patience
And giving in, throwing away the virtue
I thought I wanted to,
So I allowed the lust
To consume me,
I thought that I must.
The petals fell from the adolescent tree
And fluttered in the winds of change.
I'm sorry, Mother, for growing up,
And entering a world so strange.
May 24, 2011
May 24, 2011 at 1:00 PM UTC
I run.
I sprint as fast as I can.
Not that there's any need.
There's nothing trying to keep me,
No guards,
No fences,
Not even the rope;
It wore away with every lie.
I smile.
I can feel the freedom
As it pulses through my veins.
I no longer feel the crimson love
Pouring,
Rushing,
Escaping from cuts,
All my scars are healed at last.
I sing.
I allow my soul's song to fill the air.
For the first time in forever,
It is neither a scream nor a cry
For mercy,
For relief,
For an end to the pain,
The dark prison fades in the distance.
I simply cannot understand
Why they believe I should lament
This freedom,
When, in all honesty,
I've never felt more alive.
May 24, 2011
May 24, 2011 at 12:54 PM UTC
I am staring down
From my cliff-top refuge
Among clouds and chirped melodies
Into nothing...
I know there is ground,
A harsh reality waiting to catch me
And shatter me...
But where?
Will I feel the embrace
Of the piercing rocks awaiting
In a week,
Or a year?
If I jump,
Will I fall alone,
Or will you be there
Holding my hand
And pulling me clear
Of the rough edge
That wants to scrape and scratch my skin?
As I fall,
I am weightless,
At peace...
But I fear the end,
When sea-sharpened teeth tear at my flesh,
And the ocean pours salt into my open wounds...
The open jaws of failure
Are inevitable,
Inescapable,
If I dare jump...
But if I stay here,
In my solitary sanctuary
Of summer solstice,
I am guaranteed
Safety,
At the cost of submitting
To apathy,
To stay in this haven of detachment
I must be stoically unsatisfied.
So it seems
That I am torn apart by indecision,
The ifs and buts cutting me deeper
Than the rocks
That lurk beneath the shroud of uncertainty
Ever could.
Maybe you would be my wings...
Maybe the adrenaline would stir my motionless heart...
If I jump, I will land,
And be consumed by that monster of grief,
But falling would bring me such relief,
Possibly eternal, probably brief...
I stand on the edge of the cliffs,
Perfectly halfway between my refuge and the abyss...
Arms outstretched,
Eyes closed,
I will let the wise winds of fate decide.
May 24, 2011
May 24, 2011 at 12:50 PM UTC
Possessed by this obsession
With what will never be mine,
Broken in my devotion
To what I'm leaving behind,
Twisting and turning to break these chains,
Dropping breadcrumbs of destruction
Like a shattered hurricane.
Spinning on a groundless path
With an unknown destination,
Viced in my impatiance
With yet another examination.
In theory I'm a saint, in truth I'm a sinner,
The line I dance between two lives
Is only getting thinner.
I tear trees from their roots and
hearts from strings, yet my
journey of ruin and
wreckage only
just begins.
May 24, 2011
May 24, 2011 at 12:47 PM UTC
Reading your words of hate I start to think
Was it me that pushed you to that virulent brink,
Contemning the world, or were you always that way?
I don't recollect or recall ever hearing you say
Satan gripped your throat, or that your angels cried
Tears of blood when you looked to their mournful eyes.
I confessed to biting the apple in their sympathetic trials,
But more lies still concoct in this alchemist's phials.
I found myself writing the way I used to long ago,
But God knows I don't feel the way I did.
I try to remember all I learnt in Eden's groves,
But I can't find the lessons in memories I hid.
You can hate me all you want, it changes nothing,
'Cause it's dead and gone and I find my new self coughing
And choking on the words that I have to whisper to them;
I am silently descending to a distant end.
I've painted all my sins onto these walls in my mind,
But someday I'll be leaving this all behind,
Taking nothing but the signatures and faded scars,
Leaving behind pieces of my blackened heart.
Have I found myself, or is the girl I am long gone?
I don't know the reflection in the pools of tears.
As I sit hear repeating words of other's songs,
I met their expectations by embodying their fears.
I failed and ruined every single thing that mattered
Lying in the shards of glass from mirrors I shattered.
They cut into my lungs and rattle in my hollow chest
As I lay here and force out these final breaths.
Your heart dances to read I'm close to the end,
Do you remember when we said we'd stay as friends?
I was wrong, it turns out I do despise you,
I can't forgive or forget the monster I see inside you.
I find myself look up and ask "Who are we now?"
And see nothing but bitter clouds blocking the sun,
A deadening silence cascades on all that surrounds,
I am lost, but this is something you haven't won.
(If life is just another ****** up examination
I'll die ungraded, degraded by this thoughtless nation.
If life is just another step towards a place in heaven
I will gladly walk to hell, 'cause I am filled with the seven.
And it is with no knowledge of on whom I can depend
I will sit here, won't pray,
Continue to pretend
I'm okay.)
May 24, 2011
May 24, 2011 at 12:40 PM UTC