I want to write poetry
like a confession that I’m bleeding
like blood that I’m crying
like a heart’s cry that I’m singing
like it’s a love song that I’m feeling
like it’s a feeling that I’m fighting
like it’s a fight I’m welcoming
like it’s a welcome I’m inviting
like it’s an invite I’m opening
like I’m open and amazing
I want to write amazing poetry
like I’m reading some famous poet
and that poet in me

Those sweet white lies
offered a feeling so nice
I drowned, I cannot rise,
and pain was the prize.

I don’t want to
Open my mouth
Because I’m still afraid
The truth might come out
And if it does
If it really breaks free
You’ll see what I am
You’ll see the true me
The one I hide
With jokes and lies
I’m a terrible person
All jokes aside
You don’t seem to know it
You don’t seem to see
Even a glimpse of that person
That I know to be me
I’m such a good actress
I hide it so well
Cover it with a laugh
And you’ll never tell
You see depth in my eyes
You see love and emotion
But what would you see
If I ever did open
I can’t bear to find out
I can’t bear to show
The me you don’t see
The me that I know
If I let it out
If I let it be
I know for a fact
That you would hate me.

My words are my thoughts,
some ,
unsaid,
some,
unheard,
Some felt,
and others undeserved.
My heart and mind,
my love and my hate.

All once yours,
are now just my words.
It’s all I have left of you.
Words.

They say "time flies when you're having fun." But I don't remember having any fun.
And I know I'm not the only one.
I remember working. Fighting about money. But, for the life of me, I don't remember my kid being much bigger than a bunny.
I remember being stressed in great detail.
I even remember daydreaming
about getting a boat and sailing away.
But of all the things I wish I could remember,
I wish I knew where the time had gone.
Where my life had gone.

As we grow old
We tend to lose gravity
We lose filthy distructions
and all the auxiliary desires.
We lose audacity & grudge
that we held for so long.

We feel much lighter
Like a flying feather of a seagull
Like a flowing fountain
Floating clouds
Splendid rainbows
Warming sunshine
And like a free soul.

As we grow old
And let things go
We feel like getting out of our cages
into the world of selflessness,
As we grow old
We only become young.

Why are all the good things scary
You'd think that flying would be breathtaking and exhilarating
But
All I can think about
Is how close I am to falling
It's suffocating