Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
 Mar 2016 WoodsWanderer
Emily B
someday
when i've left this realm
and come back back again
i want to be a tree

you think i jest

but my goal has always been
to stand taller and be more honest
and what could possibly
be more honest
than a cedar
standing tall through all the seasons

his bark is peeling
and his green is prickly
but the birds all light
in the tallest branches
and sing sweet tunes

his roots run deep
and his arms reach wide
i used to think i wanted wings
so i could fly toward heaven
but maybe i'd rather be a tree
My depression hits hard and heavy
like black curtains on the windows
like nothing your medicines will cure

I sat in my window today
watched the birds gather on the roof across from me
their feathers fluff and flatten
flatten and fluff
decided to stay there until they flew off
enjoy the beauty in the landscape
then had thoughts of jumping off the sill
(13 stories down)
it seemed like a normal train of thoughts

it's been windy lately
leaves whipping at my door
stems bending as it blows
hurts my bones and makes my body ache
but you'll never understand
 Mar 2016 WoodsWanderer
Beachbum
You like yellow but
I am violet.
The real question is,
why would a girl
that loves yellow to the
core of her heart,
would even bother to
pick a violet in a field of sunflowers.
 Mar 2016 WoodsWanderer
Noa Barak
from sea to sea
and between one rest to another
all my heart desired was the
waves of your love towards me


~Noa Barak~
She was the painting
that I could stare at for hours, and never grow tired of
You took my hand and asked me to dance,
But I was far too tired to do so,
The simple act of walking being far beyond
My limited capabilities at that point.
I had been reduced to hugs and kisses,
And tales of how glorious my past lives had been,
And holding hands.

I wondered if I should let go- it seemed so different,
From any I'd ever held before, that hand.
For years I'd held others with the sole
Intention of drawing pain away-
I am not capable of creating happiness,
And I've never claimed otherwise.

Your hand had no pain to draw away though,
Or at least none that I could find,
Which startled me (All the others held so much!)
I had thought I knew all there was to know about hands-
Their needs, and all the varieties they come in.
How they all needed comforting in different ways
For similar ailments- grief, loneliness,
Heartbreak, being among the most common.
I'd even learnt to hold phantoms limbs for a few.
I'd move the pain aside, lessen it, or sometimes
Even take it as my own, releasing it when no-one else was looking,
Into a stone, or an abandoned old house.

But your hand simply said "I am here to be held."
It shocked me so much I didn't realise I was
Walking again. You glided gracefully ahead
As I clunked behind, unsure of myself,
Holding on to you, trying to figure you out
In the short window of opportunity I had left.

I saw it as our interlocked fingers departed.
Somewhere in the webbing between your ring
And index fingers on your left hand
Was what I had been searching for all along.
I won't go into detail about what I saw
(Our pain is no-one's business but our own),
But I saw it though, far more beautifully arranged
Than I thought was ever possible,
Noticing you had stolen some of mine
When I wasn't looking, and wondering
How much damage I had done.

I don't know whether I danced with you or not,
The release answered so much while
Explaining not quite enough.
I watched you, enraptured by the way
The pain never once showed
Through those beautiful, happy eyes,
Which never seemed to break.

Now I wonder if I had held your palm
Not too little, but far too much.
The pain I saw was labelled thus-
"Life experiences- Please don't touch
All is well. Please remain calm."
"WON"T YOU GET TIRED OF LOVING ME ?" she asked

"HAS THE SUN EVER GOT TIRED OF RISING." He replied.
Next page