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lynn Sep 2018
a dead end i had reached,
before i found you

trapped i was feeling..
           feeling so blue

numbness surrounding me
it wouldn’t go away,
i thought it would engulf me
leaving my heart to decay

i didn’t want to fall
i promise i didn’t
don’t hate me for wanting your commitment

loneliness is familiar
sometimes it leaves you feeling worthless
hey,
maybe loving you could be my purpose
lynn Sep 2018
there are 365 days in a year,
fact.
i have not lived many, i know that... i do
    but if that statement is true,
why do the once breezy summer seconds,
    ones that used to **** by trailed by excitement
now drag with heaviness and bass
    that only concrete wonders could fulfill.
today i thought of you
                            no, i don’t know the day number, although that would’ve been clever.
conclusions have been made in my mind
   distractions do equal a cure, at least what i find
does that make me twisted?
   does it make me just as numb as you?
          i don’t want numb
       i don’t.
i want purpose,
   i crave a life outside my mental                  restrictions which bring self pity,
   i am not you.
i am my own,
i create my story
i am not just a set of pretty eyes
or chestnut tinted bangs
or maybe rosy cheeks with a personality to match.
i do not need a headliner with your name presented as the title.
      i know that now.
so i will stay busy,
condolences
go ahead and take your bow.
lynn Sep 2018
if you’ve ever been stung by a bee
you know it brings pain
it brings sharp unwanted misery,
nothing like the rain.
rain brings feelings, which mold thoughts which mold words,
you left me, took flight, as would a bird.
if you were a bird then i choked on your feathers,
trying to revive us despite this dark dark weather.
you want to keep those dark clouds in your mind?
or would you rather disguise yourself with distasteful leather.
the season has changed, and so has your wit,
boy, who would’ve ever known you could throw such a fit.
you lash out with uncertainty, you should be punished,
as should a bee after a sting, feeling redundant.
but how would i know, oh
you didn’t?
i’ve never been stung by a bee,
funny isn’t it

— The End —