Strong.
Vivacious.
That's what I'm going to be.
That's what I am.
I just needed to see it.
Aug 12, 2014
Aug 12, 2014 at 6:10 PM UTC
Classic unrequited love,
And I've fallen hard,
Waiting for a whisper of your interest,
Feeling hot and ashamed at my lack of self control
You drag me through mental thorns,
And I let you,
The scratches on my soul are pleasure-pain.
Shouldn't keep going back,
Do.
Every time.
Aug 11, 2014
Aug 11, 2014 at 5:27 PM UTC
ecniS uoy tfel,
I tnaw ot nruter ot eht tsap,
Ot og kcab.
May 8, 2014
May 8, 2014 at 1:36 PM UTC
She appeared at the top of the staircase,
Light tangled in her auburn curls,
She gazed upon the glitter dance,
Where dresses spun in hazy whirls.
The delicate hand on the bannister,
As she descends from above,
Those lazy green eyes scanning,
The ballroom floor for her love.
He does not appear, she waits for hours,
Until the slow waltz does sound,
She tears his diamonds from her neck,
Those cut-glass dreams on the ground.
May 7, 2014
May 7, 2014 at 4:36 PM UTC
Hey you,
I didn't want anything special,
Just a night cuddled up,
On the sofa,
Big cups of tea and digestives
(Shotgun the chocolate ones),
No programme in particular,
Just talking together
Like we used to.
May 4, 2014
May 4, 2014 at 5:37 PM UTC
There is a sense,
Of having to go with dignity,
Too strong to break,
Preparing for goodbyes.
There is a sense,
Of fighting for a cause,
Too weak to battle,
Preparing for goodbyes.
There is a sense,
Of losing track of time,
Too tired to check,
Preparing for goodbyes.
There is a sense,
Of time slipping away,
Too scared to go,
Preparing for goodbyes.
There is a sense,
Of relief at the end,
Too lost to cry,
Preparing for goodbyes.
May 1, 2014
May 1, 2014 at 4:39 PM UTC
I used to think the best thing was floating,
Letting your head fall back as you're drifting,
Waving hand-shapes through the tranquil sea.
But then I noticed that without swimming,
Without the times when you find the strength to kick your legs,
And life's a long distance struggle against an unyielding tide,
You would never ever know,
The contentment of floating.
And I noticed that without storms,
Without the times when the waves roar endlessly,
And life's a crashing ocean in the sandy bay of your mind,
You would never ever know,
The contentment of floating.
Then I noticed that without diving,
Without the times when you explore the ocean floor,
And life's an appreciation of the new and the scary,
You would never ever know,
The contentment of floating.
I used to think the best thing was floating,
But I noticed that the journey there,
Is just as good.
Apr 20, 2014
Apr 20, 2014 at 5:53 PM UTC
I read online about a coping technique:
When you're stressed, bite gently on your knuckles.
My knuckles are now so bruised and swollen it hurts to move my hand.
Mar 18, 2014
Mar 18, 2014 at 5:24 PM UTC
This is not a poem,
But an emotional outpouring
Delicate as the ribcage of a wren,
Shattering as the bullet through glass,
The deafening silence of acceptance of rejectance,
I grow weary of being hurt,
You were not worth the scars.
Mar 18, 2014
Mar 18, 2014 at 5:19 PM UTC
There is a way to be whole again.
It starts with realising that you aren't the characters from your books,
Nor the popular personas you fabricate at night,
It starts with accepting that there's no one else you can be,
You are both the first and last you,
So automatically,
You are the best you there will ever be.
So for every cut and broken piece,
There is a way to be whole again.
Feb 12, 2014
Feb 12, 2014 at 6:34 PM UTC