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Elliott Jul 27
He looks in the mirror, distraught. Is he...getting old?

Because it felt like only yesterday he was chasing the woman of his dreams and fawning over his little girl.

He hasn't felt like himself in a long time, the mental illness drowning his thoughts of truth and reality, blinding his minds eye.

Some days he doesn't surface from the rolls of waves pulling him under, some days he flies higher than any kite in the sky because this is his reality.

He is bipolar. He is desperate. He is alone and the fear of growing older slowly gnaws at his insides.

He misses the way things used to be, the world is but a confusing shell of what it once was...much like himself.

He clings to memories of a happier past, a brighter time when the future didn't look so bleak and the kiss of death didn't seem to be pulling him in closer with every breath he takes.

He longs for love like most rugged men do, and yet he finds only a small portion of the comfort he once had in her arms.

He longs for a life filled with success, where he doesn't have to worry anymore, where he can finally fill that hole that has been empty since the dawn of his existence.

Some days he longs for the waves to pull him under, to fall asleep one last time and leave nothing behind except a life lived of regret and a world in which he no longer fits in.

And yet when he wakes up each morning, a look of disappointment crosses his face as he realizes another day trudges on.

This is the story of my father and the man he grew to be, or maybe the man he always was. His story is not yet completed, his chapter not yet closed and like it or not,

I am his sequel.
ky Jul 22
Sometimes, I think I really loved you
but fell out of love.

Sometimes, I think I never loved you,
just felt like I should.

Sometimes, I think I loved you all along
but knew it was best to let go.
kyla marie Jun 7
Everyone asked me what I wanted for my birthday this year, and I didn’t really have an answer. I’ve felt somewhat numb this week.

After the clock struck midnight, and it was my 24th year on this earth, it was made very clear to me what I want for my birthday.

I want things to go back to how they were,
dumb teenagers in love with each other, holding on maybe just a little too tight.

I want to lose track of time with you in your bed, listening to songs that seemed so relevant when pouring our hearts out to each other.

We ended things and moved on with our lives in very separate directions, but we always stayed connected. I think we were both secretly rooting for our reconnection, someday, when the timing was “right”.

And no matter how far apart we had grown, there was always unexpected reminders of you everywhere. We kept in touch. The depth of our love created this ongoing tension, always tethered.

I talked to your mom a few days ago, on the anniversary of your death. She’s one of the only people that I think truly understands the complexity of my pain.

I never got closure from any of this. The only thing I’m left with is the realization that I’ll never get a “happy birthday” from you ever again.

Maybe I’m selfish, but I think it’s okay to be selfish on your birthday. and my only wish is that you were still here. that you didn’t take your life. that somehow you’re still out there thinking about me when I’m thinking about you, like how it always was, but will never be again.

The only thing that I can do is listen to our songs, and talk to the moon. I would do anything for you to be able to listen.
Im playing good girl now, but you tempt me so
Im better off in my life having told you no
It astounds me that I cant just seem to let go
Cause Im trying to be good, but Id rather shoot low
Entertaining any thought of you is low IQ
The idea of being entangled is too much to chew
But somehow I still get this feeling thats brand new
Its a rush, a flux, a one-off..god i think im gonna puke
Man, I'm trying to be good, but low looks fun to shoot
Its frustrating
And Im not containing
Myself all that well
Its delusional
Trying not to dwell
Carlo C Gomez Oct 2022
we two are a moon
in our common era

a clan of rainfall

use of water as sacred currency
chanting for a once held belief
fallen through the thread

light years from home
it's a pilgrimage
to hear the brontide

to feel our own unique gravity
guide us ashore

am i ee Jul 2022
seems way too complicated

loses lots of something in the translation.

suppose pictures are part of that?

but really?

just wear a hat!
what ever happened to the good old ways?
being in person?
who knows what you are getting on the
other digital end?
not for me!
I say with glee!
arCamm Apr 2022
You are complicated…
but you’re also simple…

which makes you complicated.

— a.r. Camm
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