Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
May 2016
" All good things come to an end. "

Focus on the fact that good things end. Only good things end, right? The bad is seemingly endless, right? Baby, you could not be more wrong. Your cynical mind breaks my heart. You see, all things come to an end. Whether or not we exist to see the ending, the ending comes whether the life was deemed "good" or "bad." I beg you not fix your eyes on the ending of the good, but praise the idea of the bad failing to exist eternally. Now that you know, what is there left to fear? Our beautiful lives shall soon be taken, why must you drown yourself in your frightened thoughts? Darling, tell me what IS there to fear? Death? No, of course not. Do you fear hurting? Hurting others? Hurting yourself? What do you think we do? Every day we suffer for God's sake. We make others suffer, indirectly &, for the ill hearted, directly. Irrationality in and of itself is the idea of fearing something of which is inevitable. Live your life driven into a wall. Lay on the floor and mash your knuckles into your skull. Fear yourself. Fear the idea of missing out on the chance to love someone so deeply you could never breathe again. Drown in the idea of something beautiful. Why drench your flesh with regret when you have all the ability in the world to grasp whatever you want by the throat? Fearing the hurt is normal, but letting it stop you from living is inexcusable.Β Β Regrettable. Fear is irrational. Fear exists only in the mind. Fear lives where you feed it. I dare you to let it eat you until you die. That way the end for you has taken place, and you will no longer worry for the things ending around you. We destroy one another, but I love the mess it makes. My blood mixed on the floor with the bile from your past. Look me in the eyes and confess to me what you are scared of. Get off your knees and keep walking. For the wind will continue to blow, but one day it will stop. It will be calm and you will feel light. You will be happy, but you will realize there is something missing. You look around at the placid scene, what could possibly be missing? I am all alone.

I do not fear the hurt. I invite the hurt into me. I let it fester in my bones. I let it run through my veins, and just as easy as it comes, I release it again into the world. The hurt is what makes me. I will never sacrifice an opportunity solely because of the hurt. I want to live, and I want to Feel your lips against mine. I beg for the winds to blow into me while the sun shines on my face and I will find myself in the same serene scene, but the difference is

I will not be alone.
Written by
Rhianna Powell
  566
   Triston Wareing, Seth and Tyler King
Please log in to view and add comments on poems