Remove my problems.
Extract them out like one would extract the venom out of an anaconda’s tongue.
and then make a u turn,
take the first right,
and enter a completely disparate route.
Some type of re-birth
That is when I came to the realization that,
I need a fresher, more dire stack of cards to play with
To manipulate and over think,
If my game ends now, I’m just a myth
That is when I realized that these old cards don’t deserve me,
I’m out of patience, moves, and techniques
At that point, the cards were the ones playing me,
Rounds over,
Go get out,
Drive your rover,
Towards the woods,
Look all over,
For a new game, a new path to takeover
Something realer, something bolder
Who cares if you become the loner
***** this world, you be the controller
Perhaps it will crumble, and fall over but what truly matters is you stay sober
Cause oh, my mind,
on the other side,
A master prize
awaits your very fight,
to finally win over
So please, acquire
A new set of worries and desires
A burning outlook for your inner fire
Some motivation to proudly smile
and don’t forget those cards you want to compile
A newer game
with so much more style
That’ll make the partial act of playing, Worthwhile.
Oct 1, 2016
Oct 1, 2016 at 9:17 AM UTC
She ripped off the layers
She gave into fate, some would say is brave
Others believe it to be immature, early grave
She closes her eyes, letting go of hate
Feet bruised and blistering, have no hold
A destination untold
Connected to heart and soul
She will make it on her own
Oct 1, 2016
Oct 1, 2016 at 9:13 AM UTC
Thump Thump.
Butterflies crawl in my chest.
Thoughts swirl around in my head.
I can’t focus or see straight.
This is anxiety.
And it’s not something I
talk about often, though it’s
more common than one might
think, where my heart pounds so
loud and anxious
thoughts threaten to
drown out everything
that makes me,
Me.
You see, my brain sees simple
things incorrectly.
Texts and sometimes the
thought of leaving the
house sends
adrenaline coursing through my
system like
a thousand shots of caffeine
into my bloodstream.
The logical parts of me fled on the
first flight out of town,
leaving me to feel the tremors and
full force tsunami
on the ground.
Anxiety is a lot like love,
but it’s a battle not a dance.
A lifetime, not five minutes.
Unlike love, it’s often violent.
But just like love, it’s quite silent.
Anxiety feels like hunger, but stronger.
Like fear, but it lasts longer.
Writing this poem has quelled the
qualms that anxiety often spells.
I wish that I could be honest
about this part of me. But it's
one of those things you’re trained
not to talk about from a young age.
Because unless you’re depressed,
medicated, or heaven forbid
you’re not seeing a therapist,
then it’s not bad enough to qualify.
It’s not big enough to report.
I’m not suffering enough.
But if you could just feel
my heart beating fast.
If you could interpret the swell
of my tell-tale blush.
If you could whisk your fingers
through all of my thoughts.
If you could only
hear all of the things I’m feeling
but can’t quite express.
Then you would know that my
silence is telling.
I may be smiling, but currently I’m
fighting for sanity in my own mind.
The mind I feel is no longer mine.
I’m walking a dangerous
tightrope slope.
My mind is a minefield of poisonous
butterflies.
They threaten to swallow me alive, so
I tread the violence quietly.
I fear when I expose you to this
side of me, you’ll only see anxiety
or that maybe I’m lying.
But anxiety is not me.
I am more than mixed up brain signals.
The rest of me is cardigans in the summer,
because it’s cold inside.
I am mock converse and ponytails and
words on paper,
thoughts poured out,
slowly.
I just feel anxious
Sometimes.
More than normal, actually.
But I’m dealing with it.
And I’m no less me.
Oct 1, 2016
Oct 1, 2016 at 9:13 AM UTC
throw my problems in the trunk and drive straight head, only looking back to remember that they still exist
Sep 23, 2016
Sep 23, 2016 at 8:11 PM UTC
whats a life, lived in denial?
lived in doubt
lived in exile from my own mind
in a blackout
of the reality...
or should i say, realities
encompassing me
the only truth i know is that im on my bed,
my sister is reading a book that she had already read,
my furniture is taunting me with its realness,
while my thoughts have fled in the midst
of my search for the parts of me that truly exist.
Aug 25, 2016
Aug 25, 2016 at 8:08 PM UTC
it took 4 full moons
2 bottles of something stronger than you ever were
and a salty waterfall from my eyes that **** near drowned me
to finally realize
you were not
and never planned to be
someone who loved me
Aug 25, 2016
Aug 25, 2016 at 7:59 PM UTC
Perhaps the reason I hate myself so much,
is not because I am a horrible person..
but because I have given my love to everyone else
and left none for myself..
Aug 25, 2016
Aug 25, 2016 at 9:23 AM UTC
Being with you, I suddenly felt free.
Being with you liberated me
Being with you, was a thrill, so soon,
your aura had pierced through the typhoons
Surrounding my heart, you entered my zone
A volcano erupts
we provoked a tone.
Being with you,
Im suddenly alone.
I realized Im wrong
I realized what I did
This was not how it was supposed to be
It was too late i had pulled in you in too deep.
You saw me as everything that i sought to be.
Whereas.
I dwindled and fell into depths of no worth
The broken side of me had swiftly resurged
My passion for you led my own passions astray and
Replaced them with hell on earth.
Pretty funny how the irony just emerged
Hell and heaven the reason for birth
And then I remember why we ended and
it brings me mirth.
Being with you was another universe.
One thats too vast it immersed,
but it didnt fit, So it turned into a curse.
I’ll leave my paradoxal self to converse with your lips to create the most beautiful free verse
But here its reversed, reality is worse
It cannot be traversed so i simply adhered
I needed a reverse
My state was deteriorating the more i rehearsed
The lines in our script
Just bodies, no words
But darling please realize this isnt gonna work
Lets leave it to that world,
To ignite our fireworks and
it feels strange, like a quirk
We may go berserk
But i guess our love was the type that subverts
The only way out is to weaken our verse
Disturb our lines and coerce
Them to stop rhyming let the letters disperse
Being with you is poetry that i cannot blurt
Or sing or whisper it left me inert.
Im sorry, that i didnt notice it first
That poison was also what love exerts
And that love would leave us with so much hurt.
Aug 23, 2016
Aug 23, 2016 at 8:18 PM UTC