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sarah-sawyerPoems
As the hour drew nearer for me to know I kept having flashes of past deeds Long moments of memories of repressions resurfacing with resolve to extradite any hopeful forgetting on my part. It will be negative, my mind whispers. It always has been... we are on the bed a tangle of limbs exposed to the air never covered raw confusion deep regret a wall of protection holes butchering it filled quick with sarcasm My mind is stuck in mundane tasks Pushing any thoughts of the past into boxes Shut, ridiculed, made insignificant. Days pass, I work my body until it can only think "keep moving" I count. I breathe in. One. Two. Out. One. Two. That's all I can allow I stop among the trees Further then I have ever run before. The first few moments are pure reveal at having pushed myself so far. i am still artificial not all there laughing in awe at the awkwardness the odd situation i don't recognize knowing this is the definition of nothing because i have nothing to give except for a laugh to know part of me is in this he is kissing me, tired of the wait the talk i was enjoying i mask it with "my wants" this bull **** concept that has become a crippling facade it is just a physical dance changing positions like steps we dance the bed i'm cold and i want it over laughing escapes from my lips i say i am still high, i'm not laughing at him but i know it is a lie i am laughing at myself for being such a fool for being this new me a degree lower for being higher The cold temperature of the class hardens my ******* under my shirt. I cross my arms wanting them to be soft again. This unwilling reaction to outside factors angers me. I don't have any control anymore. this is what i have become a spectacle so easily raised wondering why i am a prisoner to these things i want them more then i want me But that's not even true! I crave me, what I could be. There's no use in wanting what I used to be. She's dead, piled under the rocks of years gone by. A mental service for the lost "Dear God..." i plead that name soft whispers in the night trying to hold on to the childlike faith but why is he silent am i no longer worthy of his grace when i breathed the holy vapor did it not the right syllables make "dear god..." That name pushes me to come undone **** God and his crucified son and the contradictory messages sent "from above" Where is he now in this great game of Hide and Seek Where daily a child dies of unspeakable acts A mother is forced to care with no help And I am left drowning in my own blood wondering if I still possess the ability to even give a **** i walk among the trees my secrets falling like an acidic rain eating the soil but i keep the pain a secret always hidden beneath strength, sarcasm, and a smile my mind watching the sunset while my mouth speaks of the coming noon A friend once told me she wished she could be like me Not caring about what I've done But in all honesty I wish I could be like the biblical god A self righteous ******* who hides behind a flawless facade of love.
0
Nov 30, 2011
Nov 30, 2011 at 12:39 AM UTC
as the hour drew nearer for me to know
As the hour drew nearer for me to know I kept having flashes of past deeds Long moments of memories of repressions resurfacing with resolve to extradite any hopeful forgetting on my part. It will be negative, my mind whispers. It always has been... we are on the bed a tangle of limbs exposed to the air never covered raw confusion deep regret a wall of protection holes butchering it filled quick with sarcasm My mind is stuck in mundane tasks Pushing any thoughts of the past into boxes Shut, ridiculed, made insignificant. Days pass, I work my body until it can only think "keep moving" I count. I breathe in. One. Two. Out. One. Two. That's all I can allow I stop among the trees Further then I have ever run before. The first few moments are pure reveal at having pushed myself so far. i am still artificial not all there laughing in awe at the awkwardness the odd situation i don't recognize knowing this is the definition of nothing because i have nothing to give except for a laugh to know part of me is in this he is kissing me, tired of the wait the talk i was enjoying i mask it with "my wants" this bull **** concept that has become a crippling facade it is just a physical dance changing positions like steps we dance the bed i'm cold and i want it over laughing escapes from my lips i say i am still high, i'm not laughing at him but i know it is a lie i am laughing at myself for being such a fool for being this new me a degree lower for being higher The cold temperature of the class hardens my ******* under my shirt. I cross my arms wanting them to be soft again. This unwilling reaction to outside factors angers me. I don't have any control anymore. this is what i have become a spectacle so easily raised wondering why i am a prisoner to these things i want them more then i want me But that's not even true! I crave me, what I could be. There's no use in wanting what I used to be. She's dead, piled under the rocks of years gone by. A mental service for the lost "Dear God..." i plead that name soft whispers in the night trying to hold on to the childlike faith but why is he silent am i no longer worthy of his grace when i breathed the holy vapor did it not the right syllables make "dear god..." That name pushes me to come undone **** God and his crucified son and the contradictory messages sent "from above" Where is he now in this great game of Hide and Seek Where daily a child dies of unspeakable acts A mother is forced to care with no help And I am left drowning in my own blood wondering if I still possess the ability to even give a **** i walk among the trees my secrets falling like an acidic rain eating the soil but i keep the pain a secret always hidden beneath strength, sarcasm, and a smile my mind watching the sunset while my mouth speaks of the coming noon A friend once told me she wished she could be like me Not caring about what I've done But in all honesty I wish I could be like the biblical god A self righteous ******* who hides behind a flawless facade of love.
sarah-sawyer
Written by
sarah-sawyer
American
Nov 30, 2011
Nov 30, 2011 at 12:39 AM UTC
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