There are many times where I close my self to the world
An reveal a part of me
that's full of anger,
Because these emotions
are all bottle up in every dark corner of my body.
Its as if the mystery of the ocean has been
finally revealed out to the world.
I know it the complete opposite
It doesn't need to rhyme nor make sense,
It's called crying
Like the little bit of rain we all need, but
Doesn't let a rainbow to show it colors when it stops.
I over think alot
an over analys things
An create walls in me.
It's called inslavment of the mind.
Everyone says open up,
But the insecurity hits me like a brick wall
I know that's what I believe, but those are called tears.
Mean while the sun blinds me with its beauty, yet I have no senses to let my bottled emotions out to the light.
The darkest corners of my body
are yet deceiving, but that's how I made them feel into.
Shallow waters  I've been there, an made it my playground.
This is me in my final hour, crying all out
because I don't want these bottled feelings any more.

It's called crying this monster out…..


                                                BY ERS

Skin
Fingernails, moonlight, low-light
What’s the beast in the mirror I see?
It stares at me, it’s features moaning a sad soliloquy
I find it’s eyes, green, green, the colour of envy
Envy. Envy.
I find myself stretching skin.
Skin, it’s anthropomorphism deeply disturbs me
Why can’t I take it off
Peel it off, rip it off, burn it off, cut it off
Snip, snip
The more I stare the more it crumbles, it crumbles
I paint it’s mask with lacquer but the same pair of green eyes stare at me
What is that, who is that beast
The low-light consoles me but still I see it for what is
Me

I deliberate.
I contemplate.
I procrastinate.

Then I write in ink...

In the hopes
of capturing
all that swims unruly
and speaks in runes.

If life was music,
then we’d be the words.
Capturing every nuance,
in every minute of everyday.

We’d be the melody.
A piece that tunes unique.
Encompassing the lightness of flightful joy,
the strength of surety
and weight of doom and darkness.

We’d be the story.
Written by the will of the universe.
Intricately ornate...
True...
To each our eyes and hearts.
Arranged most haphazard
yet so beautiful.

We’d be a symphony.
And we will be the music...

Only to our ears.

.

I feel the world drag me down
Then it sends me flying
I cycle between the highs and lows
And can't fall asleep without crying

Sometimes I am fire
Other times my mind is dark gray
Hope is a match I can't hold onto
I'm begging the light to stay

i wrote you
a letter every day
letters to tell you
just how i feel

written in neat, curved
writing i told you
just how sweet
i thought you were
how you made my heart
glow

letters in which i wrote
with various colors of ink
pouring out my whole being
to you

i wrote you
a letter every day.

i wrote you letters in which
i told you how you made me
bloom.

eventually
i found myself
pressing harder on
the paper
than i had before.

creating tears in them
similar in shape
and size
as the ones
inside of me.

i began to send
letters
with creases
and bumps
and stains
splattered with tears

pouring
from my eyes

as i wrote
the anger
bubbling within me.

my last letter
addressed to you
contained
no words

but was blank.
because
i had none that

could reach
as far

and deep

into the cracks
of my
heart

to describe
just
what you

had left
of me.

Fall breezes blowing across my face
Tempting me
Like a gentle lover
Dark grey skies set the tone for the day

Bright colored leaves dot the landscape
Red, orange and yellow
Like previous jewels

Rustling in the wind
With a hypnotic sound
Hugging to their branches
Some falling to the ground

Chimes ringing in the wind
Playing their own muted tune

The music of the season