Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Kale 24m
I can't keep doing this
Holding on to the fleeting Dream
Of those whom I hold dear.
I can't keep living for them
I can't keep loving them.
I can only enjoy the precious time
We have left
Desperately replaying the good times
The times when things were so joyous
Not filled with unrelenting sorrow.
dead friends on the mantelpiece
to scripture over our lives
salivate and dictate from the sidelines
        - as i grow a family -
they become hidden behind a build up
                            of favourite greeting cards
                  too pretty to let go of
I never wanted to learn without you
But your absence taught me regardless
Letters to my bestfriend
We’re all called to be sheep
watching the staff
held by the shepherd
led by his laughs.

We’re all called to be sheep
some lambs, some rams
the flock flows together
bearing God’s brand.

We’re all called to be sheep
some to be shepherds
I’m a little of both
both serving and served.
Credit to Kevin, Stephan and the rest of the meet up at the Hub these past few weeks.
come back alive
  no shade
     no dark sleek  over your own boxed remains
report in     to your family
we'll remove the war from your shoulder
hook up the soldier costume on our hallway peg
return the memory of life to you
we hope we can offer this ..

      ..but we’ve heard tumorous stories
        that   to the war boy returned
                      life   no longer does stick
Man Mar 8
We have so few words for peace,
And far too many for war.
Symbolically, and literal.
Does everyone just hate each other?
I don't, I look at us like siblings;
A family of the same species
Contending with the forces of the cosmos
With the aid of all that is natural.
Jellyfish Mar 6
These are confessions I can never send.
Because they blatantly won't understand
and that is something I need to get,
They don't care for me enough to accept the ways they hurt me and say sorry.

They are hypocrites,
Because they want me to stay weary.
They want me to always let go and cry alone.
They don't care if around them I'm woeful.

Mom,
You always said I was in the wrong,
Cleaning and chores were our only "bond"
You never chose me unless you could brag.

Dad,
You broke my heart,
You'd catch me when I'd fall
But never stuck up for me in the end.  

Mom chooses to make me a villain,
All I wanted was her acceptance
but she sees me as a sinner who's selfish,
I should put my pain aside and pretend I'm good.

I will be left to wonder forever,
Why my pain doesn't matter
In comparison to my sister,
Why am I less accepted when I'm in pain?

Dad loves me because he sees himself in me.
I look like him, we share a hobby
but growing up I believed that was the only thing he loved about me
Because one moment he'd be there, but would runaway when I needed him most.

Alone, he would listen,
He would say he'd help me
But in front my mom he was different.
Suddenly, what we said in the car was insignificant.

I'm an adult who doesn't know her needs, wants, and likes
Because I spent my life trying to be accepted.
No one taught me how to accept myself,
Or how to know what I need or want.

If someone cared unconditionally,
I clinged to them.
I hoped they'd never leave,
because I never got that from my family.

Now I'm in therapy, crying in every session
That I'm hurt again because of them,
Or hurt by myself because
I don't know who I am.
Your absence will be so felt I cannot picture it until it happens
and I breathe in the air of a room you will never breathe in again.
A good day often preludes the worst news. You were gone as soon
as I found out you were hospitalised.
Your sly remarks, and laughter that took so much effort to get,  I always feel so empty reading that kind of news, that was yesterday and I had things to do today and so I had to sleep and wake up and sleep again, dreaming about telling family about your passing, it's always a confusing first few minute's after waking up to face the next day after a death.

I thought you were about to die atleast ten years ago,
You were in a bad state but survived and seeked salvation in the Holy Father and I do hope you found peace in his light, I hope you were not too scared although it's a side too terrifying to empathise with until you make it there or you don't,
And I'm so glad I got to meet you again and know you again
And you will be missed, you did exist and stated your presence until old age
and you were a fine old man with your own stubborn sense of care and humour and it's hard to believe I heard your voice just weeks ago
-but it always is, isn't it? At this point I will be surrounded by death until I die myself, so it is and so be it-
You were gold washed out by sunlight and buried in sand, as you limped and trembled with every step and sat and spoke in a burnt voice with rectangular spectacles dipping the bridge of your bruised-looking nose
Papercrowns and bad jokes from cheap crackers on the last two Christmas', death always expected and life always taken for granted when living in the moment
  bored as hell and passing time that has all so clearly passed now.

I am not looking forward to seeing your empty silent chair, it all hit me today although I kept myself busy, but
I always end up alone and in agonising pain some point of the day or another
and I've had the whole day to process your death and every other death and draw all my same useless conclusions and hypothesis and rerun memories in a way to make sense of a person no longer being. So it is, so be it.

I walk through every day staring out head blank as **** and barely say a word to anyone and aslong as I'm unbothered I stay that way. I saw some traits in you that went beyond any blood-relation, perhaps that says so much more about me though, atleast if nothing else we could both agree: it was always a good night to stay inside.

Hysteria Hysteria Hysteria.
Written 5th March 2 0 2 4

Published today where we said our last goodbyes and his coffin was lowered into forever. God bless
Jellyfish Mar 3
I'm anxious,
You called and said you want to meet
A few hours away,
With her and me.

You know about the drama,
The way I feel about things
I'm sure she's said more
But which will you believe?
Arlen Mar 2
Old man, you left me there
Floating, drowning in the sea
So now that I've finally made it back to land
Don't pretend you still know me
Next page