Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Caroline W Mar 2018
So much faces
but the same eyes?
So different
from one second to the next?
Like clockwork at the day,
like a storm of chaos at the night,
like a sister at best friends side,
like a warrior to the rest of the world?
To hard to be the girl to love?
Understand that much, that ya need to love you?

I'm sorry.. it's me -
It's what i am ,or what we where..
'cause i was more than one..
broken as child,
grown in pieces,
splitted by pain,
reforged to one..

...but ever stay what i am..
..a guardian angel with a soul like a prism
To this acquaintance,
A rendezvous with midnight.
A gentle Déjà vu and in some sense
I wonder if an unspoken invite
Has played a part or two.
Does the past ever ensue?

Words do become an addiction.
Layer upon layer of repeated satisfaction
Interjected, felt and spewed.
Silken sheet’s confessions are
Best made in the ****.
These words, why are they so bizarre?

Oh let me write it right
Let me dream tonight
Upon this unarmored stage.
Let me free the fight
All through the night
Releasing it from its cage.

With a candlelit smile upon a face
The sheets do gently part.
What fills my heart
Is the gentle art
Of a finger painting slowly traced.
It has not been done by the ones
Lessening love absent of these notions.

What lies beneath must lie beside
As the past becomes renewed.
A gentle kiss a midst a torrents tide
The naked beach subdued.
Wet sand shaping dry demands

Déjà vu be wooed.
Have you ever had that feeling that you had been somewhere before but you knew you hadn’t? Or met someone that you somehow knew yet had never met? Well this piece tries to deal with just such a feeling.
My fingers sometimes feel like they were meant for more.

I close my eyes and feel the realities clashing against each other.

A myriad of choices drowned out by the distance of a universe. I can see a trillion different fingers gripping pencils in different ways.

Watch from a billion pairs of eyes as my brain trickles art into the air in a billion different dreams. Count the infinite variations rippling out from each song I sing.

Each tune never played writes the outlines of the sketches I've only felt. The rings of possibilities never to pass pull themselves back into the pond. Memory retracting light from infinite universes.

I remember it's just me. In the dark writing words that don't seem to gleam like all the things my dreams wish I could be.
I walk these halls and bitter cold rooms
With nothing but the thought of you
And sometimes I begin to wonder
If you did the things, I ponder.
Did you hurt a person badly?
Did you hurt a person, sadly-
I cannot stop these from coming-
Soon begin to fear the following.
Will we last a lifetime like we said?
As we lie down far away in bed.
Nothing goes down, nothing went wrong,
You stay polite as I think of this song.
How did I choose you?
My thoughts begin to shrink;
Nothing in my mind will go in sink-
And now I'm scared, a rhythm plays,
A song I know too well and still I stay.
I love the way to talk to me,
The words you say the way you speak,
And still I wonder why I think of it,
You say it's okay, and we both just sit.
We're quieter than what we were before,
Because I think of deception and of her.
The lies you say she told to them,
The lies you say, they still condemn-
And now I start to cry and hold a tear,
A tear that falls along beside my fear;
Of you I try to trust your word, your voice,
But the more I look, the better choice:
Is this all an act, a ***** game?
Upon a heart of darkness littered pain?
Am I in love, am I in Hell? I feel insane,
A story tell, about a long and ruined road,
A road I walk with me alone.
I say I love you, I say I do,
Questioning my reality too-
Holding your name way up high,
Should I really? Or should I,
Just say the truth and end the lies?
Before we die, before we die...
I want you gone, I need you still,
Just say my thoughts, I have the pills-
I love you, love you more than life!
For this is true I take my knife,
Hold it to my throat and sigh,
I love you, and to this goodnight.
I need you dead, I need you dead,
I see you in the mirror little tear I shed,
Am I dead? God am I dead?!
Is this hell, my Hell just as they said?!
This consant feeling of lifelessness,
I want it gone, need it to end!
I need me to be okay but the more I talk there is just more pain!
Condeming myself, holding myself accountable,
For things I didn't do I am not responsible!
And the feeling of guilt corresses my cheek,
I did nothing hear the words I speak!
It's all my fault I say to me,
I blame myself for I decieve,
Myself and only me, I know my pain it will not leave!
A poem speaks the rath of me,
The rath of me, myself and greed,
It is something I do not behold,
I show my kindness to the world!
And still I talk so mean about myself,
The thoughts I speak hang of my shelf.
They ask why I speak badly of me,
Do they not know what I see?
I am crazy I am sick,
Twisted in the mind I knit,
A woven scarf that I hang by,
A piece of thread to watch the light die.
A needle in my heart and lungs,
Pins and scissors scar the memories of fun!
Oh I am not normal I scream aloud
When no one else is near, around.
I narrate life in third person too.
And still these thoughts were ceased by you.
her one and only claim to fame*
was not a reputable asset
indeed it bought upon her shame

around the ears we weren't wet
accounts galore she'd create
was not a reputable asset

she e'en had some on a sleeper plate
the guises used didn't fool a bit
accounts galore she'd create

why the need for many an outfit?
multiple costumes being worn
the guises didn't fool a bit

ever other identities were born
writing under trillions of naming tags
multiple costumes being worn

but viewers were wise to her wags
writing under a trillion naming tags
her one and only claim to fame
*indeed it bought upon her shame
Kelly Miller Dec 2016
Sometimes it’s best to keep the things we hold dear to us to ourselves.
Just so the shadows don’t try to take them away.

The shadows are things we call friends because they’ve always been there.
They’re also called foes because of what they do.  It’s a secret though.
They told me not to tell.

One’s name is Janis. She wants to leave but never can. Another’s name is John. He always screams as if he’s forced to never stop.

They told me not to tell.

“Always keep it to yourself because we’ll take it away.”

“Why do you scream?  Why can’t you ever just sleep?!”

They told me not to tell my secrets because they’ll be used against me.

My name is Callie. I’m only age 6.
My name is ___. I have — who are you again?
My n-name is A- Al- Alexa. I have a s- stu- st- stutter
My name is Kelly.  I’m a mystery never solved.

They told me not to tell the-… no!  I won’t… they told me not to tell.

The shadows are my friends and the words will not hurt.

They told me they would —

The voices are my friends.  The voices are my friends.  The panic is my comfort.  The panic is my comfort.  The story is perfect.  Your story is perfect.  Our story is perfect.  
They’ll never know who I killed.
They’ll never know how it feels.
They’ll never know the voices were always there.

They told me not to tell my secrets because they’ll be used against me…

… but they also told me they’d never let me go even though they promised.  I guess the voices were right - I should have never told…
Àŧùl Dec 2016
What they wear often in the public,
Never covers their essentials,
Such are the brief briefs.

What they don to party,
Same they wear to the beach,
Which they wear for the namesake.

Bluff they do their meaty sausages,
But they put them in their suckers,
Buff they look with their knickers.

Flaunt they do their ***** curves,
Finish they never on the beach,
**** they do in such parties.

They eat fat-burner to stay ****,
Binge drinking they practise,
Worrying not about health.

Live like the Early man,
They live in the moment,
Risking AIDS and others.

Call me outdated,
Call me inferior,
Call me boring,
But I will never mimic them.
HP Poem #1303
©Atul Kaushal
Gary Nov 2016
Dear life,
Let these closings of long battles
And roads of new exploration be my new path for a new serene normalcy.
May these paths lead to answers,
Answers of who I am.
It's been so long since I've been the real me it hurts to a pain staking degree.
Trying to remember what once was me.
Nothings normal, all I once knew is now forgotten and gone.
You cannot expect to accomplish a new road in life, without having the knowledge of how to overcome its new and demanding challenges.  Simply its obstacles are to great to exceed without knowledge. And even scarier to face. Not knowing the unknowing being thrown to survive in the Lions den.
As a writer I write,  my thoughts, feelings and dreams.
I feel like a caged animal
At a zoo, behind glass
Looking at my once life
Now held captive
From this disease.
I miss my old life, I progressed so far.
Able to challenge my strength of mind,body and soul
Each and every day.
Now that is gone.
Grateful yes I am
Sad and *******?
You better bet.
Although grateful, I am not in good standing with the life I lead  now.
I never asked for this change, I loved my then life and only pleaded for the healthiest body. So I may be the best I could be in all strengths from muscular to mental.
I would love to see the old me and old life I once had.
I would apologize with all my might for whatever I did for it to stop accepting me.
Then maybe I would learn how to live this new resistant relationship I am in.
It's hard to accept that your own body is fighting its every move and with its every move it is literally chipping a little by little of your life and freedom away.
All you can do is wonder why and watch it pay severe tolls each day.
If I cannot return to the past then please may my future be at a level of any normalcy that my present future lacks.
For the sake of my mind and all who are a very important part of it.
Life living in a invisible diseased world
Ju Clear Nov 2016
MS
Multiple Scleriosis
Aka Miserable Self
"Listen to your body"
Says MS nurse
Your mind keeps going
Burning sensations intermittent
Stabing and shooting in arms and legs
Crawling in your head
Numbness in your ***
Forget fullness
Wobbling  stumberling
Fear
Pregablin *****
Dampening your fuesed nerves
Limping dragging
"rest"
Says MS nurse
Mind keeps going
Days are half days
Taken up by sleep
Fear
Weakness
Dropping
Numbness
"pace yourself "
says MS nurse
Mind keeps going
job half done
Delegate
Let go
"Use your alternative technology "
Says MS nurse
Mind keeps going
Stick
Mixer
Steamer
Robotic vacuum cleaner
Hose
Wheelchair
Automatic car
It's challenging Managing Self
Be kinder to yourself
Kindness rules
Challenged by Multiple Sclerisos  ,mother hood ,
Next page