Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
The soul finds solace
In the soliloquy
As sense prevails
Sonorous voice
Touches the self
Making complete sense
Simple moments
Salubrious to the soul
Mind and heart in sync
Simple seeking
Worth the search
Why
did it have
to be this way?
I cry a tear more
than I did yesterday.
Hoping to ease the pain,
I drink my sorrows away. I
am tired of hoping. I am tired
of dying today. I pray that you
turn around and say that you'll
stay. Oh please say you'll stay.
'Cause i'm done with dying
today. I am tired of
hoping too.
understand this one thing:

your life is a divine poem.
meant to be played out amidst the heavenly bodies,
with all of their summits and troughs,
the vast open deserts of heat and exhaustion.
nobody is born any different,
we just choose to be so.


when your moments are few
you will not look back on the coins you didn't save.
you will recount the stars you beheld
and the glorious perspective the morning gave you
when you thought the night would never end.
you will remember the way drops of seawater ran down your face
and how you swallowed a few and inhaled a few more.
you will look with fondness on
the smell of fire and smoke captured in your clothes,
and the nights where you defined who you were
in front of yourself and no others.
you will remember the cold
and the heat-seeking wind,
extracting the life from your face;
your "poor" lips chapped on the face of the rock,
and your eyes barely opening against the frozen precipice.

should you consider suicide,
remember that nobody is asking you to leap to the end.
[in fact, nobody is asking anything of you at all.]
you are only required to step forward.
one step. the unknown lays before you.
and if, in your life-long poem, you find no more strength
for that one step- you find that step impossible to take-
remember how you were born in love, in life,
ready to kiss the cliffs and sing into the abyss.
leap off if you must,
but remember that you can always write one more line,
you can always take one more action.

and that's all you must do.
choose to live the life you'd love. its a choice, and only you can make it.
i am sitting here. blank face.
counting the ripples on the pool.

one.... two.... ok, enough.

the hairs on my arm?
too many.
too blonde.

practice minor pentatonic scales?
if only i knew what they were good for.
blues scales?
ok.
root, flat third, fourth, sharp fourth, flat seventh, eighth.
[**** i'll be proud if that's right.]

overthink everything.
write way too many poems,
save them all as drafts.
wonder if you'd even respond.
think of calling you.
decide not to.
"your unwanted calls"...
or something that you wrote forever ago,
keeps me away.
you keep me away.
[if only you handled this by saying
maybe in the long run we'll actually get to know each other...
this is for the best.
wouldn't that be grand?
wouldn't that be way better
than some short term relationship
that would just end in this hatred for me anyway?]

i pout,
look out the window,
notice the blue sky.
i wonder why you can't be happy.
i wonder why I can't be happy.
i meant to start this off

"dear horus,"
Next page