Tinging and tapping on the window,
the rain collects on my pain
in small droplets rolling down
as they get bigger and heavy
on the glass.

Landing on my hand, the drop
came slowly in my mind from
my sorrow and my eye.

Like the rain of the window
sorrow gets heavy rolling like
a stone, tapping on the window
of my life.

The first teardrop stings,
the second is like a scar its
always in mid air as I gasp for
a breath. Forever it seems.

I am the teardrop...

©️ 2022 By Amanda Shelton

I’m hanging on the tree of shade,
my shadow lowers to the roots
to drink the mudy waters soaked
into the earth from the rain.

Secretly its my tear’s from year’s
of mental abuse.

I’m like a fruit not yet ripe
for picking.

My shadow lurks hiding my face
for my mirror image is not what
you see, but to me is monstrous.

A reflection of hair, bones and
teeth; sharp like fangs and weeds
for bands its a choking hazard.

I’m hanging on the tree of shade,
my shadow lowers to the roots
to drink the mudy waters that
drips from my pain.

It hydrates depression and anxiety
it grows like black mold.

Depression is deep, anxiety is
bleeker. Together they are blacker
then black, deeper than deep and
burns cooler than the flames
I desire.

©️ 2022 By Amanda Shelton

I will give Trump an award. He gets the most ******* MAGA head alive award. The trophy is Trump’s ego blown up head bobbing, you can hear the whistling wind breezing through his ears and his gapping mouth oozes toxic waste. Cheeto dust is his devilish glow. The number of crimes he committed is on his forehead in big bold dark orange letters as well his lies.

For the Trumpians I’ll toot your horn Toot Toot! Go back to hell. Donald J Trump is a recipe for Cheeto dust. The devil is calling for his son Donald J Trump, it’s time for his firey bath. He’s all Cheeto dust no sense. Even his ashes have a devilish orange glow. I wonder if his mother was aware she gave birth to a Cheeto. She will when he goes to hell on judgement day. **** to the Cheeto Messiah and his minion Cheeto worshipers. I'm pretty sure they will test the bath fire first, than Trump follows because they lied it's not Cheeto dust for his tan.

It is dark in my favorite dream,
where it's cold and rainy but
comfortable just for me.

Though there was once,
a shadow followed me.

It creeped upon my sleeping mind
like a vail sweeping across
my vision.

It tried to devour me
but my lucid mind was aware
and I ran and found safety.

I became a fellow shadow to
free myself from the shadow
beast, it became something
more than just a shadow,
it was a friend.

I faced my fear and learned how
to fly, with my shadow friend by
my side.

I learned that the brightest star
only shines brightest at night
and the dark is mysterious and
beautiful.

It's my mind that turns
ugly into ugly and shadows
into monsters.

©️ 2022 By Amanda Shelton

I dreamed I was slow dancing with
myself under a pale moonlight,
as you're shadow watches in the
corner.

Shivers shimmied down my back
as I realized you were watching
my back.

I had to lose you to love myself,
I had to let your memory go
into the passed where you
came from.

I tried surfing your waves but
you kept crashing into me with
no remorse or concerns for
my life.

I was drowning in your depths,
lost my sanity and self worth.

While you lied and accused me,
you left me in the dust choking
on your pollution.

Love, you forgot about me,
you neglected to love me,
you never cared about my
fragile heart.

©️ 2022 By Amanda Shelton

Sometimes I write to exhale,
sometimes I write to release the deep grunge that cultivates
within my Gothic mind.

I am like a black Rose,
my darkest night's are when
I bloom in my personal gloom.

Upon the ink I scratch across the page comes stitches of poetry;
sowing what I reap,
growing what I think.

With patchwork of poetry,
I slowly weave my tapestry
of words.

Sometimes I write to free my
expression, its like a caged bird
begging to be released.

©️ 2022 By Amanda Shelton

Am I getting old?

Hear my poet and watch me show it.

I cough instead of scream
because I have asthma.

I wake up with a twitch in my back
and a creak in my knees.

I'm drowning in my womanhood
and forgotten dreams.

I am 41 ready for my 50's.

©️ 2022 By Amanda Shelton