Run

Our ancestors' DNA
altered our own

I bet
My ancestors
were runners

Maybe they
ran from lions
ran from fire,
ran from fear

Sometimes
I have the urge to run
I would be sitting in class
And it would suddenly hit


My fears are indescribable,
Unspecified

I run
from conformity
from reality
I run towards habit,
I run back home

Reverting
to my old ways

Falling
in the same hole,
black hole

I run
because I don't know
how else
to silence my brain

It yells so loudly sometimes
Sends impulses
Stronger than lightening
And my muscles shiver

I can't stand still
whilst self destructing

I need to know
That I've tried

I have tried
To fix myself
In the only ways
I know would work

Even if they are
The same ways
That ruin me

Ivo 2d

We all fade away,
at any given time or any
place
is where we might find peace,
the sudden release of memories
letting go of the final petal
it disappears,
like tears in the rain.

And just like that
you're gone,
forever in the water cycle
somewhere deep in the ground,
still your absence won't be long
another flower blooms
with a different beauty
even when replaced,
and just like that
it takes your place
like tears in the rain.

God I love this quote.

The clouds paint the blue canvas white
No matter where you are it’s easy to see
That it’s picture perfect and just right
The reflection shines on the blue sea.
The sun paints the blue canvas orange
No matter what you are it’s a lovely view
The hours go on and the clouds rearrange
The flora sprouts life anew.
The stars paint the blue canvas black
No matter who you are you need to rest
For tomorrow when the blue canvas comes back
And shines on the beautiful forest.

This is my first poem on this site, hope you like it. :)

If not to touch the earth
and know your sun kissed skin,
if not to chase your shadow
through every place you've been.

If not to stand on mountains,
howling from the peaks,
if not to lie in fields
as melodic whispers weep.

If not to dance in forests
where tangled roots take hold,
if not to bathe in oceans
while eternities unfold.

If not to touch the earth,
upon me you would shine
and for that fleeting moment
I could call you mine.

Dedicated to a very special friend of mine who comes on here often hoping that I have posted something, no matter how long I have been absent. I hope that this will brighten your day.
Vulpes 7d

I once was bald a long time ago
Those days were gone for so long though
I had grown my hair all summer long
It is strong
As it is beautiful.

I feel a chill down my spine
Wandering down the endless path
Till it reaches
My roots
The feet that touch the ground
Below
me

the ground
Where pieces of my hair
lie
My long beautiful hair is
  falling
    falling    
    ...
      falling out.

Every strand drops to
the ground

It won't
Stop
Dro
pp
ing
  Falling
Losing



I'm bald
I'm freezing


Warm Me

Rachel Peake Nov 7

You live in the moment
Day after day
Never quite remembering
Never quite predicting


But you live in a moment
Day after day
That keeps repeating
Always repeating

You do the same things
Day after day
If you did something different
Maybe something could change

We live in a controlled loop
Day after day
It’s easier that way
Structured and arranged

We’re stuck in a cycle
Day after day
Redoing our actions
Again and again

You want to break out of the cycle?
Be free of this mess?
Maybe you can
If you try your best

But who really wants to?
Isn’t this easy.
Just keep it repeating
Repeating, repeating.

What do you do that makes each day different? Are you just stuck in an endless cycle of matching moments?

Black.
Humble.
Momento Mori.

Remember, we are all but leaves on the tree of life.
And come our season, we too...
Will Fall.

Saint Audrey Nov 1

I've got this idea
Not much more than a feeling, really

There's a kid, sunken into a dark green couch
It's old.
It's been reupholstered more times than anyone cares to remember
But its comfortable, so no one cares
He's hardly moving
Its hard to see what hes thinking, his expression a blank slate
His face is glowing with the rays of the sun, soaking in through a picture window
It paints the wood paneled den with hues of burning orange

The heat kicks in, and warm air creeps out from beneath the floor and swirls above the shag carpet, faded and worn

He  just sits there, staring out the window

Outside, the grass has lost its color and now lays like a blanket over the frozen ground
All along the bases of leafless oak trees and amid their skeletal branches, squirrels roam freely, filling the cooling air with soft chatter

Birds as well, perched amid the darkened branches
Standing, watching the world turn

The shadows create a perfect contrast, growing as the sun sets
Dark fingers that reach out to pull the world into the quiet arms of encroaching night

The wildlife seems unconcerned as they wander aimlessly, sating any curiosity that arises without a care

He wants to join them
He wants to be just as free
But the room is warm
And the couch is soft
So he sits
And watches the world turn

dumb

We don't have to walk far
Under the cover of canopy
To find exposure.
Once outside the city,
Outside the usual framework,
Outside the boundaries of polite necessity,
We can truly breathe.
On the trail
I bathe in dust
And my hands converse with trees
When asking for support.
Nursing logs remind us
Where we stand
In an ancient cycle,
And we can confess anything.
Stripped down to our bare humanity.
It's the intimacy
I used to chase in pillow-talk,
But without the dance.
The trail is always a soul's journey,
Whether solo or shared.

10/22 Inktober prompt: Trail

Never fall in love in autumn.
Hear me again,
I beg you
Never fall in love in autumn.

Take it from me,
I have fallen in love in autumn.
And every time, it left me broken.
It seems every time, the passion dies,
Just like the leaves die and fall.

Maybe that is why another word for
Autumn,
Is fall.
Ironically, I'm telling you
To never fall in love in fall.

Maybe it's inevitable for me,
But I hope I can save you the heartache.

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