My mind is racing but somehow blank,
Every thought escapes my reach;
I used to be smart, I know I did,
But frustration clears my mind like bleach.
Spotty vision, spotty mind.
Can't hear my thoughts -
To my emotions, blind.
Grasping at empty air, I find
Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing.
I scream, I cry, I cannot breathe
I cannot think.
With rage, I seethe.
I hate myself. I'm on the brink.
Hoping to clear my mind, I blink.
(But there's already nothing there.)
I know not what has caused this hate,
Or how to make it stop,
All I know is I cannot wait
To finally, finally drop
d
e
a
d
May 7, 2019
May 7, 2019 at 7:12 PM UTC
Lately I'm trying to find
A place where I don't feel confined,
And I'm waiting to die,
But I'll try not to cry
As I'm reaching the end of my mind.
Feb 1, 2019
Feb 1, 2019 at 10:19 PM UTC
Anyone could tell you
That his heart was made of gold -
Yes, it was very heavy,
And it was very cold,
But oh, so very malleable
And oh, so very valuable
To those who could control it
And to those who it controlled.
Jan 8, 2019
Jan 8, 2019 at 1:33 PM UTC
I lie awake remembering, wishing I could sleep to forget.
Jan 6, 2019
Jan 6, 2019 at 12:32 AM UTC
clothes fresh from the dryer,
curling up by the fire,
the sun on your back,
just-baked cookies for snack,
hot apple pie,
a clear summer sky,
the steam from your drink
as you sit back and think,
hot tea when you're sick,
fresh soup, warm and thick,
hot cocoa on Christmas
when they say that they missed us,
three blankets in winter,
a page straight from the printer,
sunshine up above,
a hug filled with love.
the best part about the warmth on your skin
is the way it always makes its way within.
Jan 4, 2019
Jan 4, 2019 at 3:46 PM UTC
I thought my inspiration
Had gone all up in smoke
On the dreadful day
That memory awoke.
But as I make my way
Into the hopeless black,
I realize inspiration
Has always had my back.
Dec 10, 2018
Dec 10, 2018 at 12:12 PM UTC
Be the raven and the crow;
Search for things you do not know.
Be the magpie, should you desire
To uncover things once lost to fire.
Be not like the mockingbird,
Repeating any sound or word,
But be the raven or the crow,
Saying only what you know.
Be the raptor - the eagle, the hawk -
Prey upon those who mock.
Be the magpie, if you desire,
And find things once long lost to fire.
Hear the robin, hear the jay,
But listen not to what they say.
Do not be the mockingbird;
Do not heed just any word.
The owl and the nightengale
Will say under the moon-glow pale,
"Be the Raven, be the Crow
And tell me what I do not know."
Dec 6, 2018
Dec 6, 2018 at 11:41 PM UTC
A poem is a feeling
Made up of words and lines.
Sometimes it has a rhythm;
Sometimes it (almost) rhymes.
A poem is a song
With an inaudible tune;
The notes are there, the movement, too,
But they are up to you.
A poem is a tale untold,
And one we'll never know,
If you don't let your words unfold
And let your brilliance show.
Nov 2, 2018
Nov 2, 2018 at 10:40 AM UTC
What I once considered nightmares
I now regard as blessings.
Nov 1, 2018
Nov 1, 2018 at 1:09 PM UTC
No longer trying to impress,
I seek to feel adequate.
Jul 27, 2016
Jul 27, 2016 at 8:40 AM UTC