You up to talk?
I know it’s been a while,
But I think we can give each other a reason to smile.
I can’t differentiate the days of this month, can you?
Life keeps spinning on...
Like a tire that has escaped its automobile.
As it rolls down forgotten hills and prairie sides
Which lie far beyond society’s walls
It hits me.
If we are going to fall down, why don’t we do it together?
So, send me a “hey” back.
Let’s rekindle our camaraderie!
That way, we can attack
The future side by side.
I wrote this poem late at night and chose not to edit it. Even though it isn’t one of my best works, I wanted it to exist in the same state that it was created in. Feel free to leave a comment.
I am more than just another pretty face
isn’t it ironic that people only pay attention to you when you’re all dolled up
Whether that involves foundation , powder or lipstick
Feeling like a stranger to myself when I’m all dolled up
I feel more like myself when I’m bare faced
No makeup on
Although I love wearing makeup don’t get me wrong
But sometimes I wish people would pay attention to someone’s written work
The poetry that one creates and is able to express herself through her words
verses on physical appearance
I understand why poets are anonymous
it’s not to increase the chances of people
begging for a face reveal
It’s to be able to write one’s inner thoughts and feelings without judgement
in addition to added privacy
Written on a whim
I think it's my unlucky number.
A number that has only brought me pain, sadness and anger
Before you write this off as everyone has unlucky numbers
What's so different about your case that your trying to present
Let me explain.
You see I've noticed a pattern throughout the months.
it seems that every time the number 13 rolls around.
No matter what the starting number is date wise
Irrelevant is the first number.
But if it ends with 13
Oh no rolls off my tongue so naturally
Because the first time 13 rolled around
It was lucky for a while.
But then just like milk when it sours
It ran it's course.
The pain I was left with hurt me was
deeper than I could write about.
The second time I thought oh it's a coincidence
I was utterly hopelessly wrong.
It seemed like the number 13
was like a wasp stinging
Never stopping until the pain was a numbing type of pain.
One you'd want to escape from
I'm skipping a few 3 and 4ths just to say.
It completely slipped my mind.
On why I have my reasons that I hate 13 date wise
No matter the time
Or the year
It's like a reminder that you don't wanna face.
But this time has got me afraid and scared
That the number 13 will prevail
I'll end up hurting way worse than what happened before
The way the cards are playing out
makes my anxiety go way past the roof or the stars
Because this is how I got hurt the last time around
I was an experiment.
It hurt to know I was used.
But I managed to suppress it
Then later on realized my worth and walked away
Now fast forward a couple of months.
And it seems that oh familiar fear has returned.
It never truly left but was suppressed.
The fear is simply being left and lead on.
disregarding my feelings
The reason why I hate 13 is simple
bad memories mixed in with hurting
dew drops in the spring
the sun is shining
I'm running towards my mom even though the time has come for me to say goodbye for graduation
I try to focus on the day that is graduation
But everything is a blur
I zone out until my name is called
I walk across the field
feeling proud, accomplished
But I can't help but cry
as I try and not trip on my small gown
I spot you in the crowd
All I can think of at that moment is the memories that we've created
and the way we're all huddled up
I cry one because I'm leaving the group behind
making my way in this word
still a newbie at heart
learning through trial and error
But know this
no matter where I go in life
I'll always treasure you and the memories that we made
my senior year
Written for a dear friend of mine
I took a trip to New York today...
I guess it was pretty okay.
I explored the met,
my shoes got wet,
and I left with nothing to say.
But it wasn't much different from home...
I prepare for a day with everything set,
I wander through life, no sweat.
things happen that make me mad,
even my own thoughts make me sad,
Did I mention my shoes got wet?
Over time I've realized I'm the type of person who can draw anyone in
Mysterious, yet comforting to be around
An altruistic listener, an effective conversationalist, a trusted confidant
Modest as I may be, I do understand where I stand with most people
I'm the person you call when you're having a bad day, or need a ride, or even to bask in the glory of your successes;
a promotion at work, a new fling
I'm that person
The person to go to with your something;
your need, or your news
Intriguing from afar
Many want to delve into the depths
Uncover the story within
Until they realize that there's more
There's always more
Like a black hole pulling you in
Only to find that it's expanse goes on indefinitely
After a while my quips, my quirks
No one can fathom traveling the distance
So they don't
They turn back
I willingly release them
of my gravitational pull
Then we both float on
In opposing directions
It's funny how one can be too much
Yet somehow, never enough
The ramblings of my mixed up mind. Trying something different.
Violet to your ears
I slowly watch my heart pierce
itself to your skin
engraved into your passions
each thought within
every hand motion,
Your daily stance
I've seen myself inside of your hands
& I felt so home
The though of me never being alone
was merely touchable
made my temple sing the blues
a saxophone blowing in you
Ricocheting my melody
It's violet to my ears
his love fell on me
*now his garden is all I want to hear
Thoughts thoughts thoughts
Racing through my mind
When all I want to do
Is lay here && unwind
But these thoughts thoughts thoughts
Around the corner they're always looming
How could I ever be at peace
When they are all consuming
Thoughts thoughts thoughts
Still running through my head
I just want them to quiet down
Ah well, maybe when I'm dead
This is a laying down of arms.
As I lift my limbs in surrender,
I pray that I would cease with self-harm.
That these tendencies and patterns,
that have become so deep rooted
would be eviscerated and scattered,
I know this is the Lord's doing...
to renew my mind
To give me a new heart.
To make the most of my time.
I feel a leaf turning gently,
I feel an embracing of the tides.
I want nothing without you.
I can even welcome pain.
You are my life, Jesus.
Without you, nothing is gain.
I don't know why I get so down and I
don't know why I keep getting
I don't know why I can't stay up and I
don't know why I can't stop thinking
a cup or a glass of something strong
enough to influence me
something to get me high or just
enough to quit the suppressing
choking me back with these thoughts
I can't get rid of
it doesn't take much these days
to get me
down, down, down
lately all I know is my head just spins a-
round, round, round
nothing much to focus on to keep me
I don't know what I'm doing but clearly
july 20, 2015 - 2:38 am