I can only play the hand I was dealt
So no I'm not sorry for what I've felt
Life is nothing short of a gamble
And I know I tend to ramble
I'm just making the most of what I've got
Seeing if you're interested or not
Because I find you rather amazing
I'm really not the best with the phrasing
I'm a little old fashioned
With how I express my passion
Though if you would take the time
To converse with me past the rhyme
I'd hope you'd come to see
There's a whole lot more to me
Than some scattered paper and ink
Allow me to show you how I think
It's a little crazy and far-fetched
Enough that I often get shipwrecked
I blur my reality and dreams
Still don't quite know what it means
But with the woman I see
Could you really even blame me?
I can't imagine anything better
Though I fear the day she reads this letter
It's been awhile since I've written something of this length, which I find funny because that's kind of how I began when I started writing poetry. Nice to get back to some of my roots.
Many days I feel worthless
Even more I question my purpose
Too much to explain
Everyone feels pain
Everyone cries their eyes out
Has something to talk about
I don't need someone to understand
Just someone to offer a hand
To let me struggle and break down
Knowing that I will come back around
Because if there's one thing I'm sure of
It's that I know how to love
But continue to learn every day
That there is always a new way
We all struggle, though hardly ever in the same way. We all love, though again, in many different ways. I know how to love but am constantly humbled by the fact that I can learn new ways every day.
I no longer wish the waters would calm
Those days of dreaming are long gone
After all smooth seas don't make good sailors
I stumble but refuse to be a failure
I'm still writing my story
Pleading never did anything for me
So let the storm rage
And I'll continue to turn the page
I decide when it's the end
I don't break I bend
Over backwards if necessary
Though I'm tired and wary
I'll find my place
Not settle for saving face
So come find me here
And we'll know love dear
I often use my writing to cope with my own demons and depression. A lot of times it can take a very graphic and violent form. I wrote this sitting on the shore of a lake that I longboard down to quite often. For some reason this place brings me peace. This poem is most definitely about dealing with my own depression and trying to learn that the only person that can solve my issues is me. Learning to not give up is a daily challenge for me and I'm sure many others.
You'll always yell "shotgun"
Begging someone to follow with "wedding"
But with every single shotgun
Only comes a pounding headache
Until it finally blows my head off
I only ever gave myself to be guarded
The only cocktails we share are Molotov
Yet I still don't regret what I started
Inspiration from a conversation with a friend, as well as from a song that sticks in my head
I honestly enjoy my head space
Even though me and my demons come face to face
So often it has become mundane
I am rather fond of my brain
Though I know all I do is overthink
So often it puts me on the brink
I've come to appreciate the extremes
And for that matter my daydreams
I fall in and out of reality
Without the slightest feeling of abnormality
Yes I am indeed quite odd
I'm broken, I'm ****** up, I'm flawed
Every day is a discovery
No I'm no in need of recovery
Intended to be happy. A kind of awareness of my own quirks and insanity, but totally thankful for all that I am, no matter how strange.
It's so nice to be lost
In something other than my mind
No matter what the cost
I have definitely come to find
That this is me at my best
With a chance to care
A chance to let my soul rest
And I am acutely aware
That this is the highest I get
Consequently the farthest I fall
But I never find it to be a bad bet
Because all good things start small
Though I tend to move quick
It's by no means in a rush
It's just you give my brain a kick
And here I am with a bit of a crush
Writing something happy always feels weird. No matter how much I love writing this kind of content, it is very difficult for me to have the proper motivation. I always jokingly call this portion of my work, "About A Girl" poetry, but there's a lot of truth in it. For some reason women always tend to be my muse for more joyful or thankful content. I wouldn't have it any other way...
I did it!
...Well for a week or so
...I tried real hard though
Or at least this is how I feel during sobriety
Rather after I have just ended a short stint
I drift off and become a member of my own society
Get quiet and hope the world will take the hint
I really can't handle myself or how I misinterpret things
I'm lost in the translation from my head to the real world
You'll never know the pain the memory of you brings
I was lost and found, nothing and everything all because of a girl
I never did it...
And never will!
I only hid it...
Have you had your fill?
Not sure what's going on here...