Nanna Harrow Haley Y

Nanna Harrow Haley Y Jul 2014

I could tell you how to write a poem
Playful phrasing, not too quick, not too strong,
Be graphic and persuasive, appealing to us all,
The want for supposed meaning and a silver tongue
Is the truth beneath our fall
Heartfelt sentiment, articulation,
Let’s entice some Pharisees to avoid any tribulation

For the bouts and shouts of living out
And extravagantly exhibiting oneself to all and everyone—
Clichéd, now it may be,
There’s truth in that I see
Can we find apparent happiness
All appearance and accreditation,
Let’s be certain we’re (clandestinely) drudging for recognition,

Yet, I can never tell you what is true in writing,
The slow path? That’s what I long for,
Or profess, in the world of colorful mosaics,
I am the truth! The way and the light!
I’ll set you free! The God of Wonders!
Can’t you see?
I’m God, I’ve always meant to be!

Heaven help me,
I didn’t mean to pretend
But I believed beyond
What even I could comprehend..
I’m not God, this I know,
But is this—
The way I'll go?

**It is my end…

Sometimes we all get to be a bit inflated, and we end up losing ourselves... It's clichéd, I know, and I apologize, but I do wonder about my own self at all times.

#god #not #good #evil #are #you #selfishness #dont #greed #pretend

Nanna Harrow Haley Y Jul 2014

The Truth

I could recite the lies that I cunningly crafted in dolor
Speak of all iniquities that none have ever acted,
Not upon me, no, this creature in not worth the effort, the time
Why don't I mope and wither and lie

The novelty of clinical, irremediable sadness
Induces but a fellowship of loving, caring madness
Still not accepting, I reduce the waiting kind
Why don’t I recoil and shiver and cry

Perhaps now, in my profusion of bellows
I opine that I’ll dance in the tenor of a trance,
I’ll sashay within the shade of the treasured tree of woe
And there I’ll make certain,

Of this much I have destined,
Among the shadows beaming still,
In a moment’s testing cry
I will tremble and quiver and die...

#depression #help #kindness #selfishness

Nanna Harrow Haley Y Jul 2014

Knew

Sometimes I wonder what would be the change,
If we knew how much we'd impact someone
Before we open our mouths

#pain #why #hurt #people #selfish #knowledge #do #know #we #mean

Nanna Harrow Haley Y Jul 2014

Don't

Hey, don't tell me I have low self esteem because I point out my flaws of self-importance and vanity. I'm just being self-aware. You don't know me.

#evil #bad #wrong #selfish #monster #horrible #narcissism

Nanna Harrow Haley Y Jul 2014

The Weak

“May they be scalded at the post,
Drape from the limbs upon our pine,
Inscribe into their stripped bare skin
They are the weak, the faulty, of sin."

I could compose a ballad of time,
Profound, compelling reason and rhyme,
Impeccable stanzas,
Phrasing flowing as a river—

As could all of us,
But what impact would succeed?
To pirouette in the aching of others,
Leer in their ******, their night

I’m a dashing *******!
Bound from birth to do nothing but receive
While others around me
Shall pale, wither, die

Never for any other
Have I so much as cried...

#love #hate #death #weak #weakness #narcissism #self-loathe

Jul 2014

Jordan Harris

Freak or Empathic

There is a difference between knowing and understanding.
You know how I feel because I have told you;
I explain my emotions
and you chose to listen.
I understand how you feel because I live it.
You do not tell me,
but I understand
exactly
the emotions
that course through your
body and mind and soul.

I never chose this.
And I never wanted it.

When I tell people I am an empathic
they mostly roll their eyes.
They have no idea what I am talking about,
until I touch their skin
and relay
every emotion
of their
whole
lives.

Then they call me freak.

But I cannot help it.
Anything that feels pain I feel pain for.

When your teeth sparkle in laughter's sunlight
mine twinkle under the changing moon.
When your skin turns searing red with rage
mine glows white hot as a smith's hammer.
When your lungs burn from submerged depression
mine are right there
waiting
to release their final breathe.

There are those
who turn and marvel
like I am some otherworldly being
meant to be shoved in a glass cage
and goggled at in a zoo.
They tell me it is a gift to understand.
To that I say:
this world is no utopia.
How would you like to see every flaw?
How would you like to drown in the ocean of tears?
How would you like to experience your skin raw from all the fury?
How would you like feel the ragged edges of scars
raised as far as they were cut
with every curious brush of your fingertips?
You wouldn't.
This is no gift
unless from Hell.

In my lifetime
I have tried to make it
so the world doesn't hurt
so that I don't hurt.
Now I know;
I can't.

I can't whip the tears from each child's soft chin.
I can't massage the ice from each man's shriveled heart.
I can't dowse the flames from each woman's fiery tongue.
I can't.

The only thing I can do
is change my position within this world
in an attempt
to heal my scars.

And I am not sure which soothes my pain more:
surrounding myself
with those from whom I receive the most
sorrow and anger and dread
because they
understand me;
they can help,
or
engulfing myself
within the entourage of those who always smile:
to drown out all the pain
and push the world aside.

#personal #empathy #freak #empathetic #empathic