To say that I was scared was fine
After all it was only a matter of time
Sooner or later I would have to leave home
To be on my own to ponder and roam
At first the thought filled me with dread
The idea of coming back to an unfamiliar bed
But I took the first step that led me away
Sometimes I look back still to this day
But here I stand years from then
These hands of mine that hold this pen
They are not the same I have to say
The years have changed me in many a way
I look back on all the mistakes I’ve made
The things I’ve lost and the debts I’ve paid
But would I change it if I had the chance?
Maybe I would looking at a glance
Then I think of all the things I’ve done
The days of work and nights of fun
Those I’ve met and those who’ve left
I think I’d feel quite bereft,
Knowing that it turned out any other way.
Nov 23, 2015
Nov 23, 2015 at 3:35 PM UTC
Life I thought was a neverending masquerade. The time was never right to pull back the hollow faced done up with glitter and gold.
After all the truth is never in fashion
Apr 16, 2015
Apr 16, 2015 at 8:46 PM UTC
I try to write.
But the void in between
The words and the dream
Seem obscene to my imprisoned mind.
Their distance from each other
Like the enormity of space.
But as theory says, if time can bend...
...then that explains the moments of clarity.
Apr 16, 2015
Apr 16, 2015 at 8:42 PM UTC
I've been building these walls for so many years. I'm not quite sure if they are keeping people out or caging me in.
Apr 16, 2015
Apr 16, 2015 at 12:42 PM UTC
This was always going to end
Even from the first moment I met you,
I knew exactly where I would leave you.
I told myself this was okay,
To love and to lose and all that crap
Making it easier to fall into the trap
That caught my mind and ensnared my heart.
We were always going to part.
No way around it,
And still I let myself fall.
Apr 16, 2015
Apr 16, 2015 at 12:40 PM UTC
I say tomorrow is a new beginning,
as today was one as well.
But the minutes have faded into hours
and I make excuses that in the morning things will be different.
I try, I do.
Yet every day it begins again.
And so I say that tomorrow will be different
because I believe so, I do.
But today I’ve written this poem,
that must be worth something to you
Because at least I’ve tried
to show that I feel the same way too.
Apr 15, 2015
Apr 15, 2015 at 3:35 AM UTC
I am a child of time,
a product of dreams,
a student of life,
a victim of change,
I’m in love with the way the sun lights up the sky in its last act of defiance to the encroaching night,
and I live in fear that one day it will refuse to shine.
I am a confidante to the universe,
a partner to the stars.
I am the name I was given at birth,
and the names I have been given along the way.
I am each and every breath
This introduction being my only way to say,
‘I am me’
and if you say that you know who I am then I bid you to tell,
when I go to sleep, who do I dream of?
Apr 15, 2015
Apr 15, 2015 at 3:32 AM UTC
I want to live a life in between,
A destination somewhere from here and there,
Where the grass is green on both sides
if you only stand on the fence.
I want to live a life of moderation,
Where the rain doesn’t fall in torrents but in mists,
and the sun rather warms than burns.
Where I never drink too much, and wake sore,
with no memories.
And yet I’m there with the rest, the best,
drinking with friends.
I want to live in a world where my life is mine
And that we are never too late or too early but just on time,
Live in a world where my favourite song will still move me as
much the first time as the thousandth.
I want to live in a world between, and yet looking back at my words I don’t know if I would be happy.
So I’ll be content in this world of in-moderation.
Where we love like it’s the end, and we listen like we’ve never heard before, and we live like everyday is our last.
Though I will never have my perfect world, I am happy in imperfection
Apr 15, 2015
Apr 15, 2015 at 3:27 AM UTC
I grew up believing I was royalty. For I saw that in my veins the blood ran blue, but who was I to know what science knew.
To my shock one day I fell and bled. And from my skin that seeping red.
Apr 15, 2015
Apr 15, 2015 at 3:20 AM UTC
I mourn for the times when I thought that growing older would mean growing wiser.
When I thought that growing up would mean I would understand.
But here I am, considered an adult in everyone’s eyes except my own.
Yet I can never mourn for my childhood, because I am still the child I used to be.
And that is alright with me.
Apr 15, 2015
Apr 15, 2015 at 3:16 AM UTC