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Caitlin Oct 2021
I need help
Caitlin Oct 2021
At 17 I saw it
For all that it’s not worth
For everything it isn’t

Life,
Death,
and all the ******* we shove in between

Since then I’ve stood frozen in belief
How easy it is to accept that which never needed to be accepted

That there is no meaning
That everything means nothing
Unless we say otherwise
In a futile attempt to justify
The absurdity that is our waking lives

At 27 I feel it
For all that it’s worth
For everything that it is

Life,
Death,
And all the ******* we shove in between

I stand frozen in disbelief
How hard it is to accept
That which needs to be accepted

That we need to find our own meaning
Because in life it’s not inherent
We need to say otherwise
We need to justify
The absurdity that is our waking lives

Because seemingly futile or not
We need to fight
We need to find reason
We need to come to terms
With all that is and all that isn’t
I found the first half in an old journal, I had wrote it when I was 17, I’m 27 now and the second half is my response to my old self I suppose
Caitlin May 2021
I want to scream
I want to run
I want for everything to be undone

I want to go back
I want to move forward
I want it all to be reverted

I want to restart
I want to vanish

I want, I want

I barely manage
Caitlin Apr 2021
I bounce between feelings
As I smother my beliefs
Pretending to be happy
While I’m utterly displeased
I lie to myself about my motives
My desires and my dreams
Because it’s easier than accepting
That I always concede
Caitlin Apr 2021
In the chaos
I found beauty
In the unknown
I found fear
Forever bound together
They hold all that is dear
Caitlin Feb 2021
I never thought myself a poet
Not by format nor by soul

As I never understood
What constitutes a sonnet
Or what’s considered prose

I’ve heard of free verse
Of stanzas and of odes

But never thought myself a poet
Never knowing what makes one so

I’ve appreciated poetry
From a young age to my own
Admiring the ways
A poets words can bare their soul

So even if I don’t know
What makes a poem a poem
Or what makes a poet so

I think I might be a poet
Because I want to share my own
Caitlin Feb 2021
Putting pen to paper
My thoughts begin to flow

From a quarry of memories
I know longer wish to hold

They blossom into flowers
Once trampled by my soul

Now nourished by a feeling
I never thought I’d know
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