do you ever think about how easy it would be
to pack a bag with the moon still bright in the sky and
begin to drive?
it’s scary how much of life is taken for granted before you begin to realize how precious it is, how fast it goes. by the time i even grasped that i needed to figure out what i wanted to do with my life i was bring tossed onto the conveyor belt straight out of high school.
my identity was still unknown and here i was now, deciding the rest of it.
there’s a loneliness in freedom,
a creeping feeling of sadness that hides
in the corners of solitude and quiet.
It envelopes the corners of the mind
left undistracted, ideas wander
doubt sets in your head, anxiety in your gut
is this not what you asked for?
for ties to be cut?
did you not suspect the hurt and pain it might bring up?
and yet, like a stretch after a long nap,
relief from the strains that once held you
forward, alone
but maybe it’ll be okay.
Dec 9, 2020
Dec 9, 2020 at 11:30 AM UTC
do you see me?
i am spiraling down,
grasping at the walls within myself,
clawing for the person i am—
or is it the person i was?
who am i?
i am a collection of fuzzy memories,
screaming red faces and silent blue ones,
my own imaginary friend.
i speak of healing and peace
as if i embody an ever burning light of love.
but what happens when it goes out? are others willing to share their flame?
my gut is a black hole into which i’ve fallen,
and i feel as though i’m screaming for help, and the screams echo within my emptiness,
but they
do not
hear me.
Dec 9, 2020
Dec 9, 2020 at 11:23 AM UTC
I dont miss you
I dont miss your face
Your laugh
Your hair
I just miss the touch
Someone by my side
To laugh with
To hug
Does everyone feel this way?
Living day by day,
unable to escape?
I used to be sad
Now im just numb
I miss when i would cry
The sadness would fill me to my brim
But at least then I wasnt empty.
Sep 16, 2020
Sep 16, 2020 at 2:28 PM UTC
I often wish things were different
as if a wish does anything but make me dream
I used to have dreams
but now I live in one
The fog fills my world everyday
I’m on autopilot.
Sep 16, 2020
Sep 16, 2020 at 2:24 PM UTC
Sometimes,
when it’s late at night and we haven’t spoken in some hours,
you fall asleep without texting me goodnight,
and I’m left wondering if you love me
like I love you.
But other times,
when we are together and your eyes are locked on mine,
it is silent.
But not a bad silent, because the light is shining through the window and reflecting off of my mirror and onto your face, and your face is
almost as soft as the faint heartbeat I feel in my chest.
When we are together, I tell you “I love you,” and you say you
love me too.
But, you reply that you “love me more.”
So, I love you “most.”
But you love me to “infinity,”
and nothing beats infinity,
so I guess you think you’ve taken the crown in the battle of our hearts.
Unless, of course, you consider my loving you more than infinity… but you’re structured mind won’t accept my metaphors.
Can love be quantified?
Can I truly love you more than you love me? As if I have taken the love out of my fragile heart and placed it on a scale, feeling it’s weight in my hands and seeing its amount in numbers before me?
Would love still be love if it was measured so?
Or, would it turn into something we collect,
rather than something we cherish and give away?
What is love, anyway?
Other than the happiness I feel when I am with you? Or
the peace I feel inside when your warmth engulfs me and the turmoil in my mind is silenced?
Perhaps love isn’t one particular thing. Perhaps it is many things, presenting itself in many ways.
And, perhaps, your love presents itself in different ways than mine.
When you say you love me I know it's true, because by God,
if it isn’t love,
what the hell is it?
May 16, 2018
May 16, 2018 at 12:25 PM UTC
All your life
you're told to keep fighting,
to "stay strong"
and to "carry on."
Never once was I told that it was okay
to not be okay.
That I was allowed
to cry
and be upset.
Because my tears were a weakness,
and those words couldn't hurt me,
and my "imaginary” fears couldn't taunt me.
And so I would hold it in.
Try and hold back the tears.
Stare at the ceiling when you're upset.
Distract yourself.
Make fun of your sensitive being.
Turn your emotions into a joke.
But inside,
my throat is burning
and
my vision is blurred
and
my heart is pounding
and
I can't say a word.
Because if I say something,
just one sentence,
everyone will know.
And no one should know.
Because my tears are a weakness
and my emotions are a joke.
And it's true that they teach this.
No,
not in my school,
but in my home,
and on the T.V.,
and in the apps on my phone.
Society taught me at a young age
not to cry.
To **** it up"
and behave.
Because no one cares
about my emotions
and my feelings
and my well being
until it's too late
and I'm already
too far
gone.
May 14, 2018
May 14, 2018 at 10:26 PM UTC
I am here,
alone,
where the river diverges in six different paths,
and where the mountain turns into a cliff,
and from there, the water flows
downward
creating a waterfall.
You will find me here,
alone,
where the sun struggles to rise,
and where the rooster rarely crows,
and the eagles endeavor to fly
upward
spreading their wings and drifting through the air.
Come find me here,
for I am alone,
and the wind is howling
but the wolves are louder.
The beasts only come out at night,
when I am alone.
But,
dear friend,
sometimes the moon doesn’t even shine bright enough to see.
May 14, 2018
May 14, 2018 at 10:23 PM UTC
She longed to be held,
to be explored.
She longed for someone who
would come into her life with a strong sense of curiosity.
Someone who would deeply examine her soul.
To learn about it,
and more importantly,
to understand it.
May 14, 2018
May 14, 2018 at 10:21 PM UTC