To hear the searching of the past
Bring out a pain so fresh
Tells me the wounds
Have never healed
And still can cause distress
You see the little boy or girl
In the eyes of the adult
Reliving painful memories
With always the same result
Of tears and sadness
And cracked voice
As the ghosts howl and haunt
The tentacles of darkness grasp
The demons prowl and taunt.

Lift up your wings
O cherubim
Lift up our downcast spirits
Heal the pain of life I plead
Or teach us how to bear it.

11/26/2013

I'm beginning
to realize
how alone
I really am

and how
alone,
is what
I've always
been

and honestly,
I think I'm
partly okay
with that

my best mates
have always
been
these walls,
this computer,
and the pages
in every book
I've ever laid
my eyes upon

I've always
found myself
to be quite
lonely

little did
I realize
that I had
everything
I needed

I've found
comfort,
in knowing
that these
pages can
not up and
leave me

they cannot
decide to hate
me

or ban me
from their
pithy lives

they cannot
judge me
or deem me
unsatisfactory

I have found
comfort,
in knowing
that these
walls
can not walk,
and can not think,
and can not judge,
and most
of all,
I have found
comfort
in knowing that
these walls
can not
talk*

I've learned,
over the years,
to live
alone,
inside my
own mind,
not to worry
about others

I've learned
to keep to
myself

I've found
things to
keep my
occupied

and most
important
of all,
I've learned
you can not
let your
emotions
and feelings
depend on
those around
you

because they
will fail you

every time,
they will
fail you

you must learn
to live
with yourself,
you must learn
that your mind
is an oasis,
an escape,
a paradise,
that does not
need to
depend on
anyone else,
but yourself
to be happy

© 2013 Scarlet Van Allen