i can cut all the petals off of you,
as viciously as i please....
but what i will fail to accomplish is the pulling of your roots.
They've ran too deep.
and well,
the petals will all return too soon.
and quite frankly
i remembered every color in them, anyway.
close your eyes to the sun, and I promise -
the iris will still feel him.
cowardice
Apr 16, 2023
Apr 16, 2023 at 2:49 AM UTC
my feelings don't matter, did they ever i question?
where was your intention...im scrambled like eggs.
did you enjoy the taste? simply wanted to lay?
"oh it's no fussy!"
too often I say
i'm used to this way.
i've been cracked at the seams and tossed out in the hay
with nowhere to go except further misplaced.
but aren't we alone at the end of the day....?
that's probably why we never will stay.
so again -
i pray.
relinquish these emotions that are blocking my way.
Apr 16, 2023
Apr 16, 2023 at 2:24 AM UTC
there's something about silence that just reminds me of you
and since i can't run away from it, i can't run from you.
so may someone inform me as to what i can do?
i'm over these shrieks in the void that ring true
so blue.
quiet nights.
Apr 16, 2023
Apr 16, 2023 at 1:58 AM UTC
Oh Big sky,
would you make me look pretty too?
Would my sickly veins be something of a golden hue?
Would my dim-lit soul be of an aura blue?
Apr 16, 2023
Apr 16, 2023 at 1:56 AM UTC
as the rest move in a herd in time, fixed and onward
some remain at a pace of their own
slower,
wallowing in crevices, an act of conscious apartheid
familiar with the shortage of influence, that is, separation.
wandering by will
vicariously living through a phobia of confusion
hence why lost souls remain lost
fear of false direction, fear of decision
uncertainty amongst hysteria
a deadly duo for the few
settlement has become still
and those lost are familiar with movement
2 steps forward, 12 steps scattered
here and there and it's unclear
up and down
its all around the dance to delusion goes to no sound
but illusion.
distress within the body whose mind follows curiosity
incessant pondering yields a detriment
to the thinker,
be about
your quest and breed your farewell to the
blissful life of ignorance
that now follows you
-
is there a solace to be found for these creatures?
has the point of no return passed?
the distance behind is immeasurable
for the path previously paved is dimly lit
to decipher the single instance is a feat of all men
does the lone wolf recall?
Apr 16, 2023
Apr 16, 2023 at 1:51 AM UTC
and you question, "how does she do it!" -
these golden girls are mighty pretty.
but darling don't exclude yourself, haven't you known that the elements are elementary?
now go upstairs and mine in your room.
Jun 12, 2020
Jun 12, 2020 at 1:16 AM UTC
pretty pretty things, yes all the very wild things.
there's nature and there's nurture,
are you here to sink or swing?
the end is always near, and the plants will surely die-
but the prettiest of people are the ones that try to fly.
the birds still move on windy days, the dandelion springs....and even on the worst of days the telephone still rings.
so if you face a certain wall, devise a way to be.
an angel with wings clipped still sings through all adversity
May 28, 2020
May 28, 2020 at 6:31 PM UTC
sometimes love can be evil
but don't get discouraged don't blame all us people
deceitful to trust and be mad when it's lost
you are the giver taker and receiver
you make your losses
and you chance your tosses
until you are dead you are your own believer
your own lovely keeper
no maids for your mess you are the only sweeper
use swiffer be swifter don't sniffle don't fall
don't let the dust get in your cracks on the wall
hang up some paintings a picture or four
each of your memories stick them in drawers
no room for bad company kick out remorse
open their door
vacuum the floor
clear out your vents
and make way for what's more
spring cleaning is fun
isnt clutter a bore?
not knowing what's here, and never getting much more
May 26, 2020
May 26, 2020 at 6:39 PM UTC
I escape the world through my slumber
why the commitment of death be forever, I wonder
hence my patterns of sleeping are quite excessive
it indicates the notion that my numbings obsessive
May 26, 2020
May 26, 2020 at 6:36 PM UTC
Writing has been a burning passion
Lately the fire has been waning
Like the crescent moon coming back around
In this moment I am still fading
I know it soon will return to me
But in what moment might it come back?
Cause lately I’ve been feeling like creativity is what I lack.
Or possibly a misguided soul
Or suppression of my true feelings.
Through troubled waters and vicious seas
I admit, I am still healing
The numbing I have come to know
Is degrading of my deepest treasure.
A whirlwind of fire, a breeze of wind,
An emotional strength beyond measure.
May 26, 2020
May 26, 2020 at 6:33 PM UTC