9/12/2014
consolation is a prize set upon golden sands that my feet are no longer invited to tread upon
solace is a faraway whisper that is only loud enough to be heard in my dreams,
and when i am woke,
all hope proceeds to dwindle,
and solace has gone forth to a new home,
and i am left to a melancholic hum which pierces my ears like the tip of a steak knife,
and i am left to sit
and dream,
but how doth the dreamer sing when all that is laid upon him is sorrow,
and how doth the dreamer pray when the exodus tears him apart from his mates,
and tell me how doth the dreamer love when all his life he hath known pain?
how does the dreamer live,
when he doth not see the light of the stars any longer,
when he doth not feel the warmth of the sun upon his nape,
when he doth not feel the wind outside his window?
the stars have gone dim,
the sun hath frozen outside of his dreams,
and the wind doth try to blow him away
away,
far away,
is that what the dreamer longs for?
what does the dreamer long for when life no longer fits his fancy?
i can say,
i do not long for death,
but maybe i do,
for i am like this dreamer
i once longed for the stars to envelop me in their light,
and the sun to shield me with it's warmth,
and the wind to wrap it's breeze around me
but now i do not know what i long for
the dreamer hath decayed,
the life has begun to rot,
the moon has begun to fall out of the sky,
and i am afraid of what peril i,
the dreamer,
may face
Sep 12, 2014
Sep 12, 2014 at 6:19 AM UTC
9/11/2014
when i look up at the sky at night,
i feel this deep longing.
like that's where i'm supposed to be.
i believe i'm meant to be a star,
or a planet,
or a moon,
or a sun.
i'm not meant to be here,
i'm celestial,
i am not meant to be trapped in this skin,
i am meant to roam the universe,
i am meant to shine,
and fly
but i know that is something i will never achieve.
not in life.
perhaps in death,
if one could wish.
though for now i am trapped.
as always.
as i've always felt.
trapped.
i look at my body and i do not feel it is me.
i do not see this as an extension of myself,
it simply is,
apart from i
i look at my friends,
and i know they will never understand.
they do not know that i feel inferior,
they do not know that i feel useless in this meat suit i'm residing in.
they do not know that their dear friend longs for death,
not because i want to die,
but simply because i want to live,
as i believe i was meant to
© 2014 Scarlet Van Allen
Sep 11, 2014
Sep 11, 2014 at 4:36 AM UTC
9/2/2014
dedicated to a certain human that lingers in the back of my head
i think people are brought into our life
for reasons beyond our understanding
i think every person we meet somehow helps us to grow,
somehow makes us stronger,
somehow helps us realize something new about ourselves or the universe
and you were that person to me
you helped me through hell without even holding my hand
all you did was speak to me
and god it felt like every word
dug a flower's stem into my heart
every syllable came across as a melody
and without even meaning to,
you brought me out of my own damnation
i believe that we will always
have some sort of strong,
unspoken,
bond because of that
you told me i made you love life
and don't you know that's the best you could do for anyone?
and don't you know that you are the reason i may still stand utop my own two feet today?
i did not have to search for you,
i did not long for you,
you were simply tossed into my life by an unnatural absurd vibration,
a vibration that i have now begun to see,
and hear
darling,
without even meaning to,
you saved me from the abyss
i was walking on coals and you stopped to help me off,
you didn't mean to,
you were simply being kind
and i live for that kindness,
i live for this vibration,
and i live for you
because for every person that kicks me back down,
i will still,
always,
think of you
© Scarlet Van Allen 2014
Sep 2, 2014
Sep 2, 2014 at 3:11 AM UTC
07/01/2014
here I am,
laying on the ground
with man's best friend
at my side
here I am,
dreaming of far away
planets,
unlike our own
here I am,
feeding off the stars
and the passing satellites
and the wind
and the bats overhead
here I am,
consumed in my own
state of melancholy
that strips away
my memories
and my soul
here I am,
watching the shooting stars
overhead,
and refusing to make
wishes,
for I know they won't
come true
here I am,
silently hoping
that one of those
stars
comes shooting down
towards me
here I am,
with no dreams to
behold,
with no aspirations,
no desires,
but to go back
to an unknown home
here I am,
quietly whispering to
the stars,
"take me
take me
dear, I am ready
to come home"
here I am,
knowing that if
the sun never came up
that next morning,
I would still be okay
here I am,
knowing that if
God himself came down
and put the world
up in flames,
I'd be okay
here I am,
knowing that if
the oceans of
the world
consumed me whole,
I would still be
just fine
here I am,
hoping that the
heavens rain down,
so as I
don't have to face
the world
one more day
here I am,
hoping to
evaporate into the sky,
or sink into the ground,
or be carried away in
the wind
here I am,
dreaming of death,
yet knowing that
when it comes,
I will be okay
© 2014 Scarlet Van Allen
Jul 1, 2014
Jul 1, 2014 at 11:23 PM UTC
12/10/2013
every day
i stare in
the mirror
at the face
before me
and i realize
just how ****
broken i really
am
i move my
fingers
through where
the ghost
of my hair
still stands
it breaks me,
every time
i do it,
it breaks me
i can feel
tears
start to form
under my eyes
this is not me,
i think,
this is not me
but it is
and i cannot
hide from it
any longer
i move my
fingers
to my wrist,
which was
once smooth
now
it's paved
by rail road
tracks
little red
pale
scars
all across
it's a
memory
of the months,
of the years
spent fighting
fighting for
myself
fighting against
myself
i can not
escape it
any longer
my hair is
no more
my scars
are forever
both metaphorically
and literally
i will always
live with this
always
i must learn
to be okay
with it
to know i
have,
or once might,
move on
from this
**for this is
not me**
it's an
extension
of me
that i want
so badly
to rid
i cannot
deny it
but slowly,
and surely,
i am
learning to
hide it
© 2013 Scarlet Van Allen
Dec 10, 2013
Dec 10, 2013 at 6:32 PM UTC
Writing is great. It’s like an escape. Or at least to me it is. It makes you sort of forget about everything, if only just for a while. But at the same time it makes you think about everything so much more.. To be able to write; it’s like a curse almost. A beautiful self-destroying, yet self-helping curse..
© 2013 Scarlet Van Allen
Dec 1, 2013
Dec 1, 2013 at 10:44 PM UTC
11/26/2013
I'm beginning
to realize
how alone
I really am
and how
alone,
is what
I've always
been
and honestly,
I think I'm
partly okay
with that
my best mates
have always
been
these walls,
this computer,
and the pages
in every book
I've ever laid
my eyes upon
I've always
found myself
to be quite
lonely
little did
I realize
that I had
everything
I needed
I've found
comfort,
in knowing
that these
pages can
not up and
leave me
they cannot
decide to hate
me
or ban me
from their
pithy lives
they cannot
judge me
or deem me
unsatisfactory
I have found
comfort,
in knowing
that these
walls
can not walk,
and can not think,
and can not judge,
and most
of all,
I have found
comfort
in knowing that
these walls
can not
talk
I've learned,
over the years,
to live
alone,
inside my
own mind,
not to worry
about others
I've learned
to keep to
myself
I've found
things to
keep my
occupied
and most
important
of all,
I've learned
you can not
let your
emotions
and feelings
depend on
those around
you
because they
will fail you
every time,
they will
fail you
you must learn
to live
with yourself,
you must learn
that your mind
is an oasis,
an escape,
a paradise,
that does not
need to
depend on
anyone else,
but yourself
to be happy
© 2013 Scarlet Van Allen
Nov 27, 2013
Nov 27, 2013 at 4:38 AM UTC
11/25/2013
I am scared
of losing you
but I know
that even
if I do,
I will always
have parts
of you within
me
as you
will always
have parts
of me within
you
and I find
comfort
in that
I know
I will never
lose you,
as you
will never
lose me
© 2013 Scarlet Van Allen
Nov 25, 2013
Nov 25, 2013 at 4:58 AM UTC
11/25/2013
there is something
grand that happens
when you read
poetry
when you read
someone's poetry,
you're taking
a look
inside their head,
and inside their heart
so know,
when you read
my poetry,
you are taking
a peek
inside my brain,
and inside my chest,
and inside my soul
© 2013 Scarlet Van Allen
Nov 25, 2013
Nov 25, 2013 at 4:31 AM UTC
11/24/2013
I am not
a girl
and I am not
a boy
I am a
storm,
a hurricane,
a tornado,
an earthquake
and
under my skin,
there is a
universe
with millions of
stars,
and planets,
and emotions,
and chemicals,
and scars
I am not
a girl
and I am not
a boy
there is a
windstorm
in my heart,
and in my head,
and in my bones,
and in my blood
and there are
galaxies
throughout my cells,
and throughout my skin
I am not
a girl
and I am not
a boy
I am far more
than that
© 2013 Scarlet Van Allen
Nov 24, 2013
Nov 24, 2013 at 7:01 PM UTC