I guess it doesn’t mean what it means when it was meant for you

For you I really could have tried
For you I’m willing
But is it too late?
Surely it is
The days go
The memories fade
Yet I think more and more of you
And who you are
And what you meant for my life
In my life you breathed essence
Making it impossible to forget
Knowing I was the ticking bomb
Hurts more than if you were to be a new enemy
You’re just silently in my heart
The days go
The pictures fade

You never got to know who I was
I never got to know who you were
I guess it doesn’t mean what it meant anymore
I guess it doesn’t mean what it used to mean when I was meant for you

It crawls and disappears
Like the ghost of spring,
Whose presence can be felt in the sneeze,
It appears
But it can't be seen.
It grows and expands.
It is polluted.
If you give in, it will pollute your mind
And leave behind
Fragments of the cranium
That once encompassed your grey matter.
It could shatter
The dreams that inhibit your imagination
Or corrupt them into nightmares
That could live in your head rent free.
Like an apparition,
It will haunt you,
Trick you,
Torment you,
Taunt you.
Only if you give in.

So,

Reject the fate
The one it shows you
The one that teaches you hate
And fills your heart
With fear, resentment and fury.
Reject this vile apparition
That corrupts your imagination,
This ghost of Spring
Who can't be seen
Dancing with chaos
Inside your mind
Only to leave fragments of dreams
Shattered behind.

So, cut its roots
Let it bleed through its branches
The chaos inside your mind will halt
Save your dreams
And when the Ghost of Spring screams
In pain
And in agony

Reject it.
Reject the fate
It shows you
The one that teaches you hate
And fills your heart
With fear, resentment and fury.

his secrets
are like ocean foam
rising to the surface
and she tries to breathe
as if it's air

her worries
are like the ocean floor
sinking further down
and he wont touch them
however deep he goes

his secrets
are like ocean foam
hushing with the waves
drowning out the noise
that rings in her ears

juvenile analogies
an attempt to make it clearer
my reflection in the water
is why i cant look in the mirror

his secrets
are like ocean foam
bubbles on the shore
and he tries to keep them
white like lies

her worries
are like the ocean floor
pressure gets to her head
he could swim forever
wouldn't make a dent

overwritten concepts
fears i shouldn't say
bury my head in the sand
until it goes away

falling shadows
howling holes—heart's chasm
gaps in teeth, bites of time
in the cavity of a mouthful successes

written in a journal of fears
not to fear death, but a death of dreams
not to fear easy give, but to easily give in
not to fear tomorrow, but a yesterday's repeat
to pen my thoughts, penning words at fault
                   ....my poetry is a journal of fears

wading through
the shallows
a dip
in this sea
does not
at first
look
particularly appealing
beneath
the surface is
a microcosmic tempest
of shingle
and sand
dashing
upon toes
upon ankles
upon shins

a tickle
of seaweed
leaves paranoia
burning
where sense
and logic
should reside
suddenly
i'm wondering
where sea snakes
are usually found

tiptoeing
against each swell
to keep shoulders
above water
somebody calls out
   jellyfish
and laughs
clearly
they are not
surrounded
by these
alien forms
drifting
ever closer
leaving me
no option but
to struggle
to remain
statuesque
as they pass
too close
for comfort

when the depth
forces me
to give up
my toehold
of sand
or shell
to tread water
and embrace
the solitude
finally
i will see
how truly clear
the waters
can be

All living fears have me dead in my feet,
Obscure; seems be the journey too fretful to take,
So as quickly as I start, I quickly retreat.
An outstanding trend,—a show on repeat,
On the screens of my eyes; blank as the static
dancing on your fingertips. Before doing an action,
A question of, "can I really do this"

I stutter my words before a speech in normal conversation,
I I trr-rryy not to chew on the words stuck on my tongue,
So frustrating; that the point of topic lost it's concentration.
But of course,—the confidence of pretend is louder,
Than the shyness of the wisdom I still keep silent,
Would they listen to me, as youth to old? I truly do wonder.

I'm afraid of love; of that I may not find,
I'm afraid of commitment at times,
Solely in the thoughts of fearing I won't provide,
So by the divide; two sides are of searching for love,
Or letting it be as is; whether found or not,
Perhaps as hopeful to truly believe all comes from above.

I'm afraid of time; that I do not have or waste,
Likewise having so much of it, to have nothing to do,
Perhaps as ticking over the time, my toc is out of haste.
I'm afraid of myself; moments I don't recognise him,
When I do more than I expected, or less of what I hoped,
Doing his level best, but his best is always at a whim.

I'm afraid of dreams; those I may not fulfil,
My head is filled with them, unlike the successes at hand,
Which dream comes true, seems to be by God's will.
A thrill at times, but a chasing heart out of a breathless chest,
I have many targets in life, my goal is to only stand out of the rest.

Will my fears be immortalised, to leave me traumatized,
Or will I find my bravery to survive?

I’m tired of collecting the tears
that the sun never dries
I’m resolved to chasing the wind
let the breeze blow my eyes
I’ve decided to fan my fears
and live while I’m alive
breathe as much fire
and burn till I die