I awaken in darkness still terrified and running from the mountain lion.
But what if I’m the prey of my own judging captive of my comparisons? At times I feel those verdicts in my gut like when I can’t concentrate on a task I SHOULD be doing.
When I notice my tight gut and my mind wanting to flee I can stop trying and lying to myself set my imagination free roam a wilderness I choose like right here on the flat and fertile plains of this poem’s lines.
I used to MAKE myself read this or that out of duty or responsibility or just my own judgements that I SHOULD be reading this. But today I decided to stop that foolishness, read a poem or two here on this site, and just let my imagination roam. The word wilderness popped up out of nowhere. So I rode it and let it take me. The above is the result. Writing poetry frees me.
something's there i felt its tingle it felt freeing non-containable it hasn't a name but its something truly beautiful it's different rather sensational magical perhaps pure adrenaline unlike anything else truly the highest high what it is or was i know not i simply know i want more
I'm a total wuss but I'm also ADHD af and as a result, I love the idea of adventure. I'm sort of a thrill-seeker I guess.
The stone around your heart has been chiseled at You warm the frost when you're ready When you realize the small thinking, anger, fear, and drawing into yourself Have shrunk you small The wall starts to crumble You start to free your mind, your heart From the prison you kept for safety
Do not be a prisoner of anger held captive with the chains of hate bound with the idea of isolation stuck in a hole of desperation. This burden is only a weight and once released will set you free with wings so beautiful you’d never believe you were ever so meek
I start every poem with you Thoughts are spastic rolling through my head Trying to clutch onto something But there wasn't anything to grab My bed reminded me that you weren't coming back so I slept on the floor I can't escape So I end every poem with you