it’s snowing out,
not just for the
children allowed
outside, not just
for those who can
see the flakes fall
but inside me.
Nov 5, 2014
Nov 5, 2014 at 4:05 PM UTC
it’s shining out
and in my heart
the sun is fair-
ly radiant
as always, nothing
seems so bad when
the sun is mine.
Nov 5, 2014
Nov 5, 2014 at 4:05 PM UTC
it’s raining out
and in my head
let’s hide under-
cover, beneath
the warmth of thread-
ed sheets and scent
of apple spice.
Nov 5, 2014
Nov 5, 2014 at 4:03 PM UTC
Sometimes I just want to exist and have nobody know that I do.
I think they call that solitude.
The struggle comes with the quite often daily
battle against the innate human nature within me
that yearns for social interaction, inclusion, or as I see it invasion.
Invasion of my life, who I am, and what it makes me.
At times I accept the compliments and the positive remarks aimed at me by others
but for the most part I shy away as though it’s all I know to be a pessimist.
It is almost as though I am constantly battling
against my inner self with the vibrant urge to seclude myself from anyone and anything
that is remotely like a positive influence
as though I don’t deserve to be liked or accepted.
May 10, 2014
May 10, 2014 at 11:02 PM UTC
If you’re making a cup of tea, make one for me too?
Then maybe we could sit and talk. I’d like that.
I miss that strong connection.
You know the one, the one wherein you
never leave a conversation, not even once,
not even to make a cup of tea;
You already made a dozen, and you’re keeping them warm
as best you can to avoid even a sip of silence.
May 10, 2014
May 10, 2014 at 11:01 PM UTC
It’s 15:08 and I don’t want to go to work.
I don’t want to stand behind a counter that separates me from them,
Passing a false smile and I pretend to like it there.
Asking the same questions, customer after customer:
Would you like a bag? When it’s obvious.
Is that everything? When it is.
Would you like any cashback? When they don’t.
It’s not so much the job, or the people, it’s what they remind me of.
They remind me of what I have and what I don’t.
I have a job, but I don’t have a career; my career is lost somewhere.
I have more acquaintances than friends and that is lonely.
I have a friend, but I don’t have a best friend.
There is not a single soul that I confide in with every single last ounce of thought, no matter how much I want that.
No matter how generous a person is, I cannot tell them everything.
And I do. I want to tell them everything. I want them to know me and let me know that I am not all that strange; I am not wrong.
What does it feel like to feel right?
I’d like to know what that feels like most of all.
So as I place products on shelves for the consumers to consume, as I serve them with a smile and show them where the coffee is, as I watch the hours pass just wishing to be asleep again I always wonder:
What does it feel like to be loved?
May 10, 2014
May 10, 2014 at 11:00 PM UTC
As I glance briefly up at the stars
I often wonder why they exist.
I often wonder if they, like people, feel pressured too.
When I’m feeling under pressure, sometimes I disappear.
I wonder why stars disappear.
Some would say it’s merely the clouds getting in the way,
But I don’t know if I believe that.
I like to think the stars get scared too.
It makes me feel less silly for hiding away
When I look up at the sky and see that they’re hiding too.
When they’re up there, shining in force,
It makes my insides shine too.
I think sometimes it’s okay to hide yourself away from the world;
From the glaring of eyes, and the thoughts,
and the questions that govern our minds.
I looked up at the sky two nights ago and the sky was vividly bursting at the seams,
With stars lining up, as though to say ‘Look at me, I’m a star.’
I looked up at the sky tonight, half extinguished, and watched as it wept.
May 10, 2014
May 10, 2014 at 10:59 PM UTC
Don’t make me feel this way, please,
Don’t.
Don’t make me feel hollow, frayed and
afraid to show even the slightest echo of emotion.
Don’t make me be like you, please,
Don’t.
Don’t make me be heartless, cold and
Ashamed to feel even the slightest hint of hope,
Of love, that maybe we could have been something more than
“Just friends”
I showed myself to you, you showed little in return.
How foolish of me, how cruel of you.
They say it is cowardly to make a soul fall in love with no intention of loving them back. I agree.
I thought I knew enough of you to understand.
I thought I knew enough to understand.
You make me feel this way.
You make me feel ashamed of myself, regrettably so, and you make me feel.
You make me wish I’d never met you. Not always, but sometimes.
Some days it is all I can do to forget you, and that hurts me. I never wanted that to happen.
You made that happen.
You are making that happen.
As each minute, hour, day, week, passes by I still miss you. I am foolish.
I should hate you but I don’t.
I should hate you, but I don’t.
May 10, 2014
May 10, 2014 at 10:59 PM UTC
I found a lonely wing, and I wondered where it’s flown
All the places it has seen, all the flowers it has known.
Now all but one wing has disappeared
Leaving behind a dozen stories,
I wonder, tell me, where did they all go?
May 10, 2014
May 10, 2014 at 10:58 PM UTC
My eyes are hurting and my head isn't clear
Is it so wrong of me to say that I wish you were here
With me. We could sit up all night if you'd like that
We could sit up all night if you'd like too.
My hands are trembling and my lips growing numb
Contemplating how it'd feel to feel your fingers and thumb
With mine. We could hold hands all night if you'd like that
We could hold hands all night if you'd like too.
Jul 10, 2013
Jul 10, 2013 at 8:28 PM UTC