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Departures and Arrivals.
The dust hasn't yet settled on the torn up trail behind me.
Particles still linger in my hair, my teeth and in the air
around me like they own me.
I wonder, even though it seems like I've dearly departed, if it
will ever settle and  I don't necessarily expect it to because
maybe it has to sock it to me
so no sweet amnesia can shew away the memories of what it was
that got me here to this place of growing respect for all the
potholes and all the unpaved roads.

Driving in the dark tree monsters slide bye one after the other,
their silent dialogue giving me the shivers like so many other
things in the world do,
cold sweat running down my face as the  car rattles and  the
music stops and there's only the sound of dripping rain. Tears,
like rain aren't separate  from  sweat.
They're constanly recycling  and bleeding into one another like
night bleeds into day. I get that and I even love that because where
does hardship go if  not to tears?

Stuffing grief into the cracks of the bodymind is a recipe for sick. I get
that too. People may tell ya to take a pill, have a swig, do anything to
bully your discomfort away but you sense
and you know that you sense and only you can sense what it is you
have to do. So you keep on going because what has drinking  the
sweet numbing  Koolaide ever done for ya anyway?

And it's a relief to come out of the comatose to watch the rose-gold
sunrise coming up over your landscape as your gears shift on the
broken hill of this awakening;
laser sharp beams of light gutting the nonsense out of ya, your feet
touching down onto solid  ground  and you feeling shaky but all
aglow in your skin
and this departure is telling every cell in your body that you have arrived.
There will be other departures and other arrivals, other days and other
nights but for now,
in this moment you have arrived and you don't give a **** about and
you're almost grateful for the dust and the  particles and the freaky
and the the not so freaky  fallout hovering over ya like a halo

1/2020
The renewal of the spirit, thru departures and arrivals...leaving and entering new phases, lessons absorbed, learning to navigate through the dark, coming out of denial, allowing, sitting with the pain and uncertainty and coming clean with self.
Kaemae Dec 2021
No regret of what she couldn’t change
It’s lame little kiss wouldn’t linger
So she lays down in wait
Holding her breath for another
Others forget and run over and by
It’s a bruise to my pride
I won’t heal now
She knows why
And still
Does she move?
I haven't posted on here since I was 18 but I've continued writing. I cringe at my old stuff so I'm hoping that I've improved over the past two years. This is a verse from a song I'm working on. The song will probably go no where but I love to complete my works. Just looking for feedback since I don't feel comfortable enough to show the people around me. The song's name isn't waiting but I feel like it's an appropriate title for this one verse. Thanks!
Katie Oct 2021
How long has it been since I put this pen to paper?
My works have dried, as empty as the soul that wrote them.
I've come so far, yet gone nowhere. Should I write on, as per?
Scratch out bitter whines and cough them up like phlegm
Intoxicated by blood and hate and scream at God?
Those were the actions of a fallen soul. A child lost in data
Too cluttered and obtuse to see past the firing squad
Of my own accursed creation. I was undone, in beta,
Unreleased because I wasn't yet ready to be me.
Everything about me was wrong, hidden deep
Within smoke and fog I made myself so I could be
Whatever I needed to be. But the truth will seep.

And maybe now I'm ready.
I'm ready to be Her.
Maybe now I'm ready to write.
I forgot about this page for a long time. I wrote this whilst I looked through my past works. I wanted to post my two parter before this because it was old too. This is where I want to start.
Kate Jul 2021
She
She was born with the brightest eyes like the first dawn of spring
Her soul was a precious gift meant to be kept and held tight by only herself


The dawn eyes turned to a summers green leaves
She held tight to her soul letting in only goodness and hope


The eyes that mirrored the trees began to fall like the leaves in autumn
Although she tried to keep her soul for herself she began to give small pieces to those undeserving


Those eyes that were once filled with color were frozen like the coldest winters day
A soul that once was her most precious gift was lost and soon forgotten
Kate Jul 2021
I know they love my me

I just wish it was the same love that your supposed to have

I wish they tried

I wish they at least pretended to try
grew up to realize that I was their burden
Rezium Jun 2021
Years have passed,
Seasons have changed.
Am I an adult yet?
Couldn't say.
Relate?

While pain was brief,
And a cleanse was needed,
I still grow more and do my best to succeed.
Did I pay a bill?
Is it in the budget?
Swear to God I could go for a 20 piece McNugget.

While I shift and work it out,
I'll still ask myself am I good enough?
When isn't your mind...
What kind...
Don't lie...
Stop.
Take a breathe and it's going to be all fine.

Is my flow still the same?
Is my expression more better?
Does it make any sense to you that im still explaining and continuously refraining from resaying a word by rearranging the framing of this here decree I'm declaring?
No, not really.

With exercises and breakdowns,
I've seen it in better ways.
Still in chains,
But looser around the brains.
It's taken time,
But I'm finally in control...

I'm getting used to... New.
David Bowie said it best about changes. So here's mine instead
Reuben F Jun 2021
Like the short-lived sunrise
My window refuses to show balloon,
I pass jarring time that pours
Looking at pictures in accompanied laughter...

Like a candytuft dies
My soul flourished a dancer in tune
To a touching sound that tours
Around an imaged and gaily passed chapter...
Lieke May 2020
White and gold horses.
Gracefully gallop away.
Ripe me is set   free.
7 May
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