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Sep 2016 · 491
Can't Sleep Poetry: Night 1
Alazella Sep 2016
I've got a problem that no words can fix.
It’s a crucifix, wear it every day around my neck.
The childhood trauma of a disease ridden drama;
A youth wasted in worry and torture and sadness;
No gladness but anger at things uncontrollable.
Resentment, attachment, love's crazed half madness;
The terror of time waiting at a doorstep.
And touch of death that I never wanted.
I didn’t ask for the future, the one that I got,
But I paid for it anyways, at the price it was bought.
Two prices in shambles, yeah me and my ma.
Our middle names signal to valuables lost.
It was slow, it was painful;
I was mad, now I'm shameful.
To not have given all of my love to mother so deserving;
Who served me and loved me and put me above her.
And it breaks me at night, my will and my heart.
We’re apart and I get that, so I guess that's a start.
But it’s a tragedy happened and they'll never understand;
How hard it is to get out of the bed, clear my head,
Shake of the sadness and instead focus, get through each tiny moment,
And let go of the pain, ‘cause you can't ever show it.
Even harder, on edge, with reminders during the day;
Even when I relax, it seems to get me anyways:
In movies and shows and television and songs.
She appears in places where she doesn’t belong,
In symbols and characters and phrases and themes.
But she used to belong, and she used to be here;
And after school, ask me, “How was your day, Al-pal, dear?”
“Good, the norm.” Then I go to my room.
I left a mother, why wonder, I didn’t love her.
One occasion, my grandma spoke:
"This might be the last Christmas you have with your mother."
Trying to chide a family and remind them to fix their blunders.
And I was so mad, nah you're wrong, she won't be gone.
She’ll keep around for the next one, no doubt in my mind.
And I kept those thoughts in my mind, stupid mistake,
Such denial at the finality of my reality and the harsh truth of my life and hers.
So I let my ma go, ‘cause we argued, and I was tired
Of being tried and not being admired,
Being faulted and criticized.
…Then her cancer metastasized.
At a point where no one noticed,
And she got diagnosed with
Leptomeningeal carcinomatosis.
My mind slightly paralyzed,
Quite surprised, hypnotized, waited for it to stabilize.
Then I became demoralized and desensitized.
So I stopped staying home much, because I felt pressurized.
And, no, I never apologized.
Because I never believed my mom would be left behind.
Strongest woman I ever met, didn’t believe death could touch her.
'Til he knocked on our door and said Debbie comere.
Yeah well ******* death, you can’t have my ma.
But her breath slowed, and she whispered “No, I'll go.
The ol' reaper, he seems kind of nice,
What could go wrong? I'll be back, don’t you think twice.”
And since then the moments have turned to seconds and ticks on the clock.
Days and months later, I'm still waiting for another knock.
Waiting to give her a hug, cry a thousand and one tears,
Ask her for forgiveness for all of the years.
Take her in my arms, and let all of her faults go,
Cause bless my mom,
She was important.
But I never really seemed to know.
And I spend more time thinking about her now,
After the fact;
Wasted tears towards a face that's never coming back.
Jan 2015 · 399
Realization
Alazella Jan 2015
I am joyful, when I realize,

though I often do forget,

that nothing really matters,

you just have to make the most of it.
Whoever you are, you are lucky.
To be who you are and where you are.
Don't waste it.
Jan 2015 · 615
Mixed
Alazella Jan 2015
I'm a curious curious mix of emotions and feelings

(and matter and mass and space)

A unique pattern.
There could be no replication.
Jan 2015 · 618
A waterfall; never-ending
Alazella Jan 2015
I'm thinking about
everything
and everywhere
and none of that
all at the same time.
Jan 2015 · 1.9k
Joyful
Alazella Jan 2015
be joyful that you were allowed to live,
be joyful that whatever
force, god, entity,
you believe in
made you,

*YOU.
Jan 2015 · 865
Rapid
Alazella Jan 2015
words swirling around in my head,
a whirlpool,
******* me in,
down,
deep,
breathe,
**breathe.
Jan 2015 · 681
Rooms
Alazella Jan 2015
Sitting in a dark room,
illuminated by the ghostly screen.

Sitting in a light room,
thinking how to describe me.

Sitting in a blank room.
knowing I want to please.

Sitting in a full room,
trying not to scream.

Sitting in a dark room:
I can't help but think,
that no one cares,
even though I know it's not true.

Sitting in a light room:
Knowing people care,
but still hearing
insults, hatred, unease.

Sitting in a blank room:
I can't ever be
good enough,
smart enough,
"nice" enough.

Sitting a full room:
Suffocated by the
wants and needs and duties
I have been forced to fill.



Dark, Light, Blank, Full:
I care, and
I'm still trying.
Jan 2015 · 319
Brevity
Alazella Jan 2015
Time.
My one true solace.
My one true despair.
Offering joy and the sadness
from knowing
that all the bad times will come to an end,
but also...
the happy ones, too.
Dec 2014 · 956
Lies
Alazella Dec 2014
I once wrote on his wall,
"You're the best thing that ever happened to me."

Now that's changed,
because he changed it.

We'll never be that couple, skating in the pond,
We'll never be that couple, singing to that song,
We'll never be that couple, dancing in the silence,
We'll never be that couple, watching the caged lions,
We'll never be that couple, walking arm in arm,
You'll never complete my couple,
You left my aching heart.
Guess you could say I'm single now.
Dec 2014 · 262
Over Now
Alazella Dec 2014
We didn't have to part,
You didn't have to break my already aching heart.
Dec 2014 · 598
Unheard Music
Alazella Dec 2014
I'll listen with my heart
for the tune unheard;
for the soloist's song
sliding through the world.
I don't need to know the notes:
only feel the love.
I don't need to know the words:
only hum softly to the silence.

And when I'm dancing,
line by line,
to your sweet Harold
I'll play it all over again
just to feel your care,
just to know and smile and laugh

*because I know you're there.
Dec 2014 · 359
Shattered
Alazella Dec 2014
Parts of you and pieces of me,
broken bits and shattered dreams
mean not what they aren't meant to be,
but instead the things they ought to seem.
And yet somehow I do believe,
that dreams are just our yet-to-be's.
Dec 2014 · 304
Ease
Alazella Dec 2014
I write in bursts of twos and threes,
I write about snow and shining seas,
I write so that my thoughts release,
I write so my mind can give me peace.
Dec 2014 · 741
My Desk
Alazella Dec 2014
A cluttered artifact,
I look at it.
Pens, papers, memories.
"unorganized... a mess... disgusting... a pigsty"

My feelings bubble.
No,
none of those things.

Only just... pieces of me.

I don't want to be a rigid, ordered desk,
I like the way I am:
crazy and a mess.
Dec 2014 · 1.5k
Connected
Alazella Dec 2014
My life:
a collection of thoughts,
words,
moments,
people.
Dec 2014 · 305
Alive
Alazella Dec 2014
My skin is itching,
My breaths are fast,
My mind is racing,
My hands come last.

The words are in my head
trying to get free.
And then I let them go,
And I feel like me.
Dec 2014 · 287
Force
Alazella Dec 2014
You can't really force poetry.
It's just a part of you that
writes to feel the rhythm:
a part of you that writes
to feel alive.
Dec 2014 · 351
Poetry
Alazella Dec 2014
The words that spill out of my mouth,
"I am a poet"
are met with skepticism.

"Really?"
comes the reply.
"then write something right now."

"Give me a topic."

"Rivers."

My mind struggles for words,
for rhythm,
for rhyme,
I am forced to say words
that I have already said,
that I have already known.
When I finished,
they applaud me,
they are impressed.
But in the back of my mind,
all I feel is guilt.
I claimed to be a poet,
a champion of words,
an expresser of feelings,
and yet failed to meet a challenge.
It doesn't matter if they know,
because I know.
But,
my resolution is now clear.

**Poems are my solace,
and I cannot be forced to grieve.
Dec 2014 · 390
Change?
Alazella Dec 2014
The instructor stands at the front of the class,
next to an apple.
For a demonstration, he leans down
very close,
and takes a deep breath through his nose.
Then he asks,
"Did I do anything?"
A very vague question.
A simple student answers, his call rising about the crowd's whispers,
"You didn't do anything!"
The instructor chuckles.
"Anyone else?"
Apparently not, as no one broke the silence.
"Well," the instructor continues, "Although it seems to you that i have done nothing, changed nothing, altered nothing, I have in fact done an infinite number of things."

"You chose to take my question as, 'Did I do anything to the apple?' but in that case, you would still have been wrong."

"Let's think of this at a molecular level; my nose did indeed move air, correct? Well if my nose moved the air, it must have disturbed at the very least, some of the molecules on the apple. And on a larger scale, I smelled the apple, yes? Well if i smelled the apple, some of it's particles entered my nose. If some of it's particles entered my nose, then, in fact, my brain reacted to them. My brain felt an activation of sensory nerve cells when axon after axon was activated. My body carried the electric charges to my brain, and activated their sensory neurons, in turn."

"And on an even larger scale than that, when I smelt the apple, some of the students inside this class, missing breakfast I presume, felt a rumble in their stomachs, or even just thought about the idea of food. Even if you were not hungry, you thought on a preconscious level about the food you had already eaten."

"Furthermore, your brain worked to identify this object sitting in front of me, identify me, and identify the action I performed."

"Do not take this for granted."

"Because some people in this world, cannot identify objects or remember faces.
Some people in this world, cannot smell.
Some people in this world, cannot feel hunger.
Some people in this world do not understand the concept of molecules.
But some people in this world, are not you."

"You have the ability to do..anything."
"What I am trying to teach at this moment, is that everything you do, changes something."
"Whether that something is big or small, or nothing at all, is up for you to decide."
Nov 2014 · 431
Tranquil
Alazella Nov 2014
Through the virtues I collect
By giving and other perfections
May I become a Buddha
For the benefit of all
A Buddhist prayer
Nov 2014 · 718
Cold, Beautiful World
Alazella Nov 2014
In the morning's chill,
The outside air is cold.
In the morning's hush,
the birds who sing are bold.
In the morning's light,
snow is all you see.
In the morning's beauty,
the world is so serene.
Nov 2014 · 269
Fear, at it's simplest.
Alazella Nov 2014
I am afraid.
Afraid to break unbroken snow.
Afraid to shatter the cold beauty.
Nov 2014 · 806
Genes
Alazella Nov 2014
So
it seems that we share half the genes,
So
maybe it's true that half of me,
might be like half of you.
So
I hope I get the good parts,
your drive, your determination,
not the bad parts,
like your hypocrisy,
and your self-admiration.
Nov 2014 · 239
Why I Dance
Alazella Nov 2014
I dance, because I have feet, and I plan to use them.
I dance, because my eyes see beauty and have to move.
I dance, so that I can feel the rhythm.
I dance, that I may make others smile.
I dance,
hoping that you will join me.

— The End —