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Michelle Apr 2013
I'm stuck.
I have a Headache...
A truly unbearable headache.
I had release the night before, through the form
Of skilled, firm hands easing aches, knots and sores.
Then the kind therapist glanced at me as she massaged,
And softly said, with the utmost sympathy, "Stress from school?"
In reply, I gave a harsh bark, and said, "Yeah... major test coming up."
She said, "Don't worry about it- you'll be fine. I'm sure you'll have other tests."
I tried to explain to the kind woman that I wouldn't have another test. That if I didn't
Pass this one 3-hour test, which was truly written to fail, then my entire future plans would
Teeter off of the balance of hope, effort, work, and time, and my life would be thrown into chaos.
I tried to explain that I know that I can do it, but only at the expense of lowering my GPA, and there are two tests.
Quite Substantially; I would drop in other classes. She may have rolled her eyes internally, but she doesn't understand.
This is the one thing, besides music and poetry, that holds me together in the world. I work for my future, for my family one day.
I work so that I will be content with my life, so my education will someday bring me to every country in the entire world, my improbable dream.
May seem rather stupid, but I know it all stems for me from these vital years in my life. Though I've started educational stress early, I have the capability.
I'm coming from a large family and the experience of having living in the same area my entire life. This means that I need to find ways to travel other than through excess money.
I want to travel to meet all those less fortunate than I, to study their culture and their frame of mind. To understand their history, and help them, perhaps, to find a  truly better future.
My dream is to be able to help so many others in areas we don't hear much about to one day find a society that will be better than ours today; one that will be productive in finding solutions.
Of course, this is all just a dream.
So, why spend my nights over it, and why do I stress about not enough time and wasted opportunities?

Because dreams become reality,
But dreams change if you do not work for them.
If you let your dreams slip away from you, another, less slippery
Dream will happen along and refuse to budge. Dreams can reflect hope,
Or they can reflect despair.

It's up to me to decide my future.

My headache has dissipated.
Very rough draft. Unrevised, even though I almost brought myself to this time. Almost.
Michelle Apr 2013
If you would be so kind as to help me get over my writer's block, it would be much appreciated.
How you can help:
- give me a random noun, adjective/adverb, and/or verb.
- give me a subject to write on, or make up a situation for a character/feeling.
-  send me advice
- message me about anything
- continue to stay awesome and inspire me. Thanks for your support through every tiny phrase and feeling!
Sorry I haven't been on top of reading everyone's writings. I have over a thousand poems to read! Thanks for your patience!
DFTBA! :)
Michelle Apr 2013
Chaotic words whirl about in my heart,
Thundering, Whispering, Yelling, Sighing.
I must write them down. They scream
To be let out, and I am their only outlet.

I am not their master; they come from deep
Within the soul of the universe, the threads
Of which everything is woven.
I merely write them down.

Burning, they spiral through all feelings,
And I am caught up in the emotion
Of their power, their movement.
My mind races to keep up with them.

I write and type, scribbling and mistyping,
Hurrying to catch the wisps they leave
Behind as those words streak through
All thought, all feeling, all experience.

After they have left my hand,
A sudden emptiness overwhelms me.
I cannot change what I have written,
For these words hold their own entity.

A poet lives on these words.
I live on these words. The torrent,
The release, the emptiness, and
The excitement as it begins once more.
Michelle Apr 2013
Three words, whispered.
Midnight draws near.
A smile, a kiss.
Michelle Apr 2013
His words resounded and echoed
Again and again in my heart.

"I'd rather die myself to save you."
"Of course ... I'm already dead."


My lungs felt suppressed,
And I could hardly push them apart.

"Are you really going to risk yourself
To keep me from the clutches of Oblivion?"

His eyes looked up from their place on the ground.
I knew his answer before it came - "Yes."

For a moment, maybe two, our eyes
Spoke with each other, embraced.

I could hold back no longer. I ran to his black figure
And wrapped my arms around him, the guide to Nothing.

Then those arms, that had held so many souls
Doomed to die, came around me.

How could this master of many
Feel anything for a lowlife like me?

I knew the answer. Because I am the only one
Who has ever loved him.

You may think it's twisted, loving
A master of fate, who keeps Oblivion on a chain,

But,

I cannot help myself.
I suppose it's destiny.

"Take me with you." I whisper softly,
"Don't leave me in this world- I don't belong to it."

I could hardly believe I had said those words.
Yet, I meant them with every fiber of my being.

His eyes searched mine. I could feel
Them trace every line, every curve inside of me.

"You will be subjected into the same job,
The same task as me."

"As long as it means I have you."
I was sick, I AM sick, of the earth.

His voice shook. "We have little time. Already
Hundreds of souls are wondering why it's taking long."

"Please." I whispered. "Keep me by your side."
I needed him, as I still do.

He broke our embrace. "If that is what you desire,
Then first you must meet Oblivion."

I took a step back. "Is that how you gain
Your power - you get it from that beast?"

"This is the only thing that you must do.
Then, we will be separated no longer."

"I am willing to take the risk." Though he inspires fear,
I am determined to stay with him.

Suddenly, I could see the ropes that tie him
To the greater force were pulling, straining.

"I must go. Before I leave, I have one last thing
To tell you. It's important."

"Hurry then. Tell me," I said,
Even though I wanted to keep him there.

"The Meeting of Oblivion can only happen
At the height of the full moon. That's in three days."

"I'll see you then?" I whispered, trying
To keep my voice from shaking.

Wind was back again, whispering
Urgently into my ear, flowing through my fingers.

"No. You will only see Oblivion. But,
After the joining takes place, we'll be together."

He was starting to fade. Desperately,
I grasped at his fingertips. "Don't go!"

The last thing I heard, were his whispered words,
"You know I must" and "I love you."




Now I'm sitting here waiting
For the full moon to rise.

Oblivion and I have never gotten along. To others,
Oblivion is a release, and Death is the greatest fear.

However, I've fallen for one of the greatest
Questions humanity has known.

About ten minutes left, according to Darkness.
Perhaps a bit less, if you believe Night.

If I had realized Death's eyes were on me
Earlier that night, would I have chosen differently?

In some ways, I wish I would have,
But my strange passion keeps me from sensibility.

As I sit here and ponder, and
Tell you my words, I can't help
But think of all I'm giving up to
See the one and only master of my heart.
I see the roses from the past, the mustangs,
The laughter, the mist, the unspoken emotions
That riddle the romantic atmosphere of Night.

It will all be worth it. I'm going to join him.
My only regrets last for a moment, maybe two.

With three minutes left, I'm giving
My farewells to my comrades Night and Darkness.

I whisper to Wind, to tell him I'll miss
His uncontrollable mood swings.

I whisper to all, to tell Ice, when he comes,
That he was my greatest friend.

I know I'll see them all again,
But never in the same way.

Is it worth it -
Going to Meet Oblivion?

I sure hope it is,
For the full moon is at its full height.

Farewell.
I'd just like to note that both parts of "Meeting Oblivion" are highly metaphorical, so don't take everything quite as serious as you may want to.

This poem made me sit still silently for a moment, maybe two...
Michelle Apr 2013
I had a scrape with Death the other day.

Unknowingly, I walked right past him;
I wish I had realized his eye was on me.

My brooding mind was hidden from sight.
A confident facade replaced my true self.

Wind was cold. He traced lines on my body,
Then whipped my hair into a vortex of life.

Night was black, but not as emptiness--
He's always held the shadow of unimaginable life.

I could tell there would be no playing that night.
No one would dare play with Darkness acting this way.

                            I've always been able to hear their whispers.
                            Death, Darkness, Night- even Wind and Ice.

When I realized something was wrong,
I stopped and turned to Wind.

Before I could ask the words on my lips,
He suddenly fell silent. All was still.

Night was quivering. Darkness lay
Almost in fear of another governing force.

That's when I knew-
Death, the most brutal lover, was after me.

I was frozen for a moment, maybe two.
I wanted to deny that it was him.

But when the partner of my words
Stepped out of the shadows, I ran.

Careful, I thought, I must be wary.
Death has many ways of leaping out.

He could lie on the road behind the wheel
Of a taxi cab, or a semi truck.

He could wait for me behind the walls
Of a rickety, abandoned factory.

All this and more ran through my mind.
I shook it off, and ran harder.

Breathe. In. Out. RUN.
Escape. Breathe. In. Out.

I kept running, but there's no place to hide
When the person you hide from is the one
Who knows every nook, every cranny of the earth,
Who waits in every shadow, who knows every hole,
Who has been your acquaintance in days gone past,
But is forced to exist and to reign by a force
That is greater than all.


Realizing at last that to run was frugal,
I stopped, turned, and called out his name.

With his hooded, impassive face covered,
He stepped out to meet me.


A memory flashed between us-
For that is how Death speaks.

I was holding a rose. It was my friend.
I moved my finger to caress its petals.

With the first-experiencing innocence of a child,
I gasped as a thorn drew rubies out of my skin.


I knew what Death meant. He was trying to say
That even the most beautiful friend can betray you- it must.

I sent a torrent of feelings back. I knew (and know) this is
His purpose, but I couldn't accept it was my time to die.

He stopped me by moving a single glide closer,
For he doesn't trod the earth- he sails the air.

He moved his hand up towards his hood,
Which is made from the darkest strands of fate.

I tried to mentally prepare myself
For the vision that was to appear.

I've seen his face before,
But it still strikes the chords of my heart.

Not a horrible face is shown, but neither
Is a human face revealed, when Death pushes back his hood.

Though inhuman, his eyes hold the most intoxicating
Power over my entire body and soul.

His mesmerizing face was shown.
I could hardly breathe.

Finally, my bittersweet smile appeared-
I met one of my darkest secrets.

You want to take me?
I sent through a memory.

Silence and stillness reigned for
A moment, maybe two.

A horse was riding in my direction.
In fear, I thought it intended to trample me.

However, it stopped just before me.
Lowering its head, it breathed into my face.


Death wasn't succumbing to his power and purpose.
On the contrary, he needed to talk to me.

As I stood there waiting, he did the unthinkable-
He broke a rule-- He spoke to me by voice.

"You know I'm meant to take you."
His words were the whisper of madness on my heart.

"And you know I refuse to be drawn into
This web, spun by a cruel pretender of destiny."

Death passed a hand over his face.
"Why must you awaken feeling in me?"

"I know not why we are doomed to this love--
Before you interrupt, you know that is truly what it is."

I could hardly speak a word for the
Thousands of emotions that pushed at
The unstable bindings of my fragile heart,
Once torn in childhood, taken by a master
Of all things dark; a friend of Night and Darkness,
If fear and respect can be melded into friendship.

Inwardly, my brain shook my head at my own
Emotional, silly words. So dramatic!

Yet my soul knew my words spoke
The unchangeable truth.

"Love." Did his voice shake? I didn't know.
I still don't know and can't feign to fathom.

"Why do you refrain from taking my soul,
From tossing my being to Oblivion?"

Death turned, and his blackened wings
Were the only thing I could see for some time.

After a moment, he turned back.
"Because I realize now that you are what makes me feel."

I tried to interject, but he wasn't finished.
"You are the only light in this unending hurricane."

He took a breath. "You saved me from becoming just
A force; an unemotional statue with an unending purpose."

The first emotion I've ever seen on his face appeared,
And my heart leapt into my throat.

"After all this realization, how could I take you?"
He advanced. "I'd rather die myself to save you."

His bitter laugh echoed. "Of course,
In a way, I'm already dead."
Freestyle. Bit more of a short (yeah, right- more like UNENDING) snippet of a story than a poem, don't you think?

Anyway, a few odd descriptions in here, but hope you like it! Get ready for part 2! :)
Michelle Apr 2013
A simple word of farewell,
Hardens the most powerful tears.
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