I don't know how much longer I can stand it...
This banging against my head,
the real me trying to get out,
will the pain ever stop?
Or does the real me have to shatter it's shell
to break free and end this pain?
Jun 24, 2015
Jun 24, 2015 at 12:11 AM UTC
I've tried everything I can to pull you up
but the ocean floor is a long ways away
and you're running out of oxygen.
Each time you try to kick yourself up off the ocean floor,
you're just pushing the air out of your lungs.
With each kick, it only gets harder.
Your oxygen deprived brain is
stopping you from thinking straight
and your legs are starting to give out.
I understand why you're giving up.
The energy you have left is barely enough
to survive let alone live.
But I called for you as loud as my voice could bear.
I tossed a rope down, several times.
I even swam down into the deep for you
and you just pushed me away.
Soon all your air will be gone.
I'll finally meet you at the ocean floor
and I'll pull you up
but it'll be too late.
You'll be gone.
I don't know what to do anymore.
I've tried everything I can to get you out,
but I can't grab your hand to pull you up
if you don't at least
reach for me.
Jan 21, 2015
Jan 21, 2015 at 12:26 AM UTC
You look in the mirror and see every flaw
on you face,
Then hold your head down for every little
blemish, for all of your minute imperfections,
And that is all that you see, all you can
think about when you watch people's eyes on you.
But we are our own worst critic,
and how pessimistic it is
That we can only look at ourselves
and see our worst.
If you haven't noticed, though, you've
never truly looked at yourself.
You've only ever seen your reflection,
a mere image staring back at you.
The truth of the matter is that you'll
never be able to see yourself, only your reflection,
Something that can never fully capture you
because a picture is only worth a thousand words.
You are worth at least a million.
So maybe you should stop looking
at yourself in the mirror
And start seeing yourself through my eyes,
then you will see that
You are beautiful.
Nov 9, 2014
Nov 9, 2014 at 10:31 PM UTC
Each drop that falls is filled
with little grains of salt
that hold our pain and sorrow.
As they travel down our cheek
they carry it all away.
But when they fall on our tongue
we don't taste any of it,
in fact, they taste a little sweet
to remind us that once all
of the little grains
have been washed away,
everything will be better.
Oct 25, 2014
Oct 25, 2014 at 6:42 PM UTC
Maybe it's just my teenage mind
But I'm trapped in the middle of a storm.
So deep inside the eye
I can only remember where it's taken me.
I can't see out where I'm going
Only I know I have to chose.
Everything swirls around me so fast
It's nauseating.
How am I supposed to focus?
How am I supposed to decide?
I'm the eye of the storm
But I am blind.
Aug 28, 2014
Aug 28, 2014 at 10:02 PM UTC
Our backyard has grown up.
I don't know if you've noticed,
but as we up
it does too.
First the baby swings were replaced
with big kid swings that
you pushed us back and forth on
while we smiled and screamed as it went higher.
But now the whole thing is gone,
replaced by a trampoline.
Even more mature,
but you can't push us on it.
Then we added the hammock,
for relaxing,
not fun.
And now our backyard is all grown up.
The fun is gone.
Now as I lay, swaying
back and forth in my thoughts,
I realize that
when I look up in just the right direction,
the world disappears
and the backyard is just
our little forest.
And you push me
and I smile.
"Higher! Higher!"
So, Daddy,
as we grow up,
some things will
never change.
I love you, Dad.
That will never change.
Aug 14, 2014
Aug 14, 2014 at 11:02 PM UTC
9 hours.
It's a long time to spend
in an airport.
I wore the wrong shoes
and my feet hurt
with every step I took.
But then I saw the tears
and then her story came pouring out
at me with them.
Dad passed,
mom barely hanging on,
flight delayed,
Sister ill,
daughter going deaf...
And my feet hurt
on my 9 hour layover
to Europe...
Aug 12, 2014
Aug 12, 2014 at 11:58 PM UTC
It isn't the right word.
But I just can't find the one that will fit
to describe me.
I thought it might be right
until I googled it...
"A shy person"
does not begin to describe me.
I'm not angry at it,
my shyness,
but it frustrates me so much every day.
I sit inside my own head
Screaming!
Screaming at myself,
Screaming out what I just want to say
But
I
Can't!
Screaming at my head to think,
think of something,
anything!
My mind is full of thoughts
but I'm stuck sitting with my best friend
in silence,
my thoughts pounding
against my skull
but not one breaks free.
I don't know the word to say
to sum that up.
Maybe there isn't one
because it is only me trapped in my thoughts
wanting to break out,
wanting to speak out.
Maybe that's why it's so frustrating.
I feel alone inside myself
and I just want to get out.
Aug 3, 2014
Aug 3, 2014 at 10:02 PM UTC
It's not just the nightmares that haunt.
When you can't separate
dream
from
reality,
that's when it gets frightening.
Jul 22, 2014
Jul 22, 2014 at 1:54 PM UTC
I hated poetry
when I had to write it for someone else.
It wasn't fun to write
when it was written for someone to read.
But now I write for myself
and I love it.
I love writing poetry.
Those are four words that I never
imagined myself saying.
And now, too,
I write for others just as much as
I write for myself.
Jul 18, 2014
Jul 18, 2014 at 5:37 PM UTC