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I can't write good poetry anymore.

Anytime I sit down and try to pound out a few words that might make someone feel
Any emotion really
Nothing special
Maybe just a small twinkle
Or a twinge
I come up lacking.
My former knack for the typed word has gone out the window.

Along with all of my worries and cares
Don't get me wrong
I still freak out
And cry sometimes
But I'm not sad anymore.

The deep emotions that I felt were unexpressed in the sad little heart of a girl that stopped existing a year ago are no longer struggling to escape from the tips of my brown little fingers.

The words flow as freely as the peace in my heart
Now that I've remembered what they are.
 Jul 2014 Jessica Pfeiffer
Hilda
Time hath ceased.
All clocks stopped.
Where you passed by
in dew kissed meadow,
void of thy presence.
We hear no more
at our door
thy gentle knock.
After thy passing
and before
persistent loud cry
of Whip-poor-will.
Now that is still.

Silence.


**~Hilda~
© Hilda July 4, 2014
Well isn't this fun
Ain't it just a lot of fun?
Well ain't this fun to fantasise

I'm now a different person
In a melancholy instilling prison

Find me here I am!
Ambivalent as ever.

Should I stay or should I go
Insane?

Life is too short? Not short enough for some
I am broken, small and inconsequential
Like a long fortten crumb

The vision remains in my brain
The plague still tracks through my vain
**** it man I want to run and scream

Hello death and depression my partners in crime
Your berating words echo in my hollow chest
I try to give the world my best
But I've been killed by the sight of the rest
I'm in pain can't you see

Should I stay or should I go
Insane?

Aw **** it who am I kidding
I am the inane
Aw **** it who am I kidding
I am insane

The sad song follows me like a theme
I see pianos and violins convulse
In this true and hellish dream
I don't need a mirror to remember who I am

I don't know how long you've been gone
I don't know how long I've been alone

She's gone now
I barely remember

I've scarred myself to bring little pieces back
I close my eyes and try to picture

I now indulge in the details I never bothered to mention

You were taken in a brutal fashion
Now I’m the embodiment of a laceration
My ability stolen

Now I live but only for revenge
Life doesn't just stop when you close your eyes

How am I supposes to heal if I can't feel time

I can't remember to forget you
I've burned trucks loads of your stuff

When they took your life
They took mine too

I've lost it all
Never doesn’t last very long

There is a place outside society
Where I want spend my residual years

There is a place outside religion
Where I want to worship my gods

There is a place outside art
Where I want to donate my heart

And maybe I'll be happy
Maybe I won't but it's better than this

There's a place where is doesn’t smell like teen spirit
Where people have got summer time happiness
As for identity, we transcend it.

Never doesn’t last very long

There's a place where outsiders go to fit in
There's a place where wannabes go to be an artist’s muse
There's a place where the devout go to sin
There's a place where protesters go to use
There's a place where individuals go to be the same
There's a place where fighters go to become lovers
There's a place that makes celebrity inane

I never want to be like that
I never want to fit in
I never want to be type cast
I never want to be a stereotype
I will never be what I don’t want to be

But

Never doesn't last very long
Sitting in a moon lit field
In my hands, the future I yield
I've got a personal stationary kit
Cross legged I sit
Swallowing stables to repair my inner self

Am I to be martyred?

Sitting in a moon lit field
In my hands, the future I yield
I've got a personal stationary kit
I'm in a panic, my heart's edging its final fit
Cross legged I sit
With a scissors I cut off my rough edges

Am I to be martyred?

Sitting in a moon lit field
In my hands, the future I yield
I've got a personal stationary kit
In my head I feel this is it
Using a ruler to guide my knife
Blood falls like a liquid hour glass ending my life

I can't be who I have to be
My aspirations far outweigh my ability
My motivation is hindered by my stupidity

I'm sick of the annual near life experience

Depression is the zeitgeist of our generation

Correct me if I'm wrong

Sitting in a moon lit field
In my hands, the future I yield
I've got a personal stationary kit
I try to hot clue my memories
The fondest, I fear, aren't even true

I feel like I'm being eaten alive
I'm a lobster in a *** slowly being boiled
My claws are being torn from me
My very soul being soiled
My heart is still beating
My legs are being ripped from my rife carcass
I cry louder than I ever thought possible
Still breathing I am in gross darkness
My eyes feel like they're going to bleed
My tail is ripped from me
I wish I could plea
But I'm just one
I'm just me

Sitting in a moon lit field
In my hands, the future I yield
I've got a personal stationary kit
But I will share
There's a secret I try to keep
I hold it in but don't lose sleep
As stress grows high
I let it slide
No need for pity in my sight

I'm on my own but no one knows

I'm living by my new found creed
My heart surpassed its zenith speed
My eyes are dry
But still I cry
I guess I'll watch and wave good bye

I'm on my own but no one knows

My mind is set for a nose dive
Check my pulse I'm still alive
Turns my insides wild
But still I smile
Is that the point of sacrifice?

I'm on my own but no one knows

There's nothing here to steer me straight
No words to help decide my fate
I'm ready to leave
Without a belief
About to use up number nine

I'm on my own here I go
There’s a third space
That’s not quite here
Yet not quite there.
It’s a dark place
With no clear light
Other than the fireflies
That hover close listening,
To our quiet whispers
To our quick mumbling
And to the declarations.
There’s a slight drizzle,
But I don’t mind,
Because your voice is
      My umbrella
      My blanket
      My everything.
Close my eyes, listening
To the muffled backg­round,
It makes me think
I’m there with you.
But not quite there –
In a third         space,
With you beside me.
I don’t hangup first
Because I want to
Listen for your guard
As it falls         away
Some where in         that

                 Third space.
Why won't Hello Poetry add my tabs :-/??
 Jul 2014 Jessica Pfeiffer
r
Neil Young singing now-
  you are like a hurricane
  there's calm in your eyes

r ~ 7/3/14
\¥/\
  | Arthur:Cat 2/ winds 100 mph
  / \
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