I was sixteen when the machines came. The letters “C-A-T” screamed at me from across the street As the harsh yellow tore at the roots of the Cherry trees across the street. Of course the orchard had never been mine, I had not planted the seeds and curated the Beautiful blooms through their short lives, Picked the cherries off the trees myself. But what about all the photoshoots I’d done Among the gorgeous white blooms, All the times my friend had walked through The rows of trees to get to my house and Left paint splatters of cherries across the kitchen floor, All the sunsets I’d seen through the leaves That made me nostalgic for things I had never experienced? What if I’m growing up and moving out And can’t seem to wrap my head around the fact that These plants that have smiled at me from my Window for over a decade have returned To the Earth? What if these days the Weeks are crying when they should be glowing and The absence of trees is simply the target of One of those odd tricks that sorrow shoots out of the mind That remind me that change is the only thing that’s Permanent? I wish that the emptiness of the field could be replaced by Happy little white blooms But instead the CAT machines screech and moan And all I can feel is The ache of old nostalgia and the Peculiar nostalgia of the unknown.
a reworking of "I can now see beyond the cherry orchard" from almost two years ago! Time flies when you're having fun, right? :)
your strong shoulders make me feel safe, I look into your eyes, admire your face and slowly, I might be falling for the way you hold me, and the jokes you make. I lay on your chest and rest I listen to your heartbeat, no time to be stressed. and slowly, I might be falling for the nights and our vibe, it’s hard to describe and I don‘t know where this is going but baby, let‘s just keep it flowing.
i need a safe place to take off my skin and scoop out all the sorrows it carries. it peels. it burns, like a banished soul. but i have stopped saying my prayers — they just crumble into a ghostly sigh. i need a safe place — to take a peek at my demons without looking like one of them: a hurtful father. a forsaken son. a snake that sheds its memories and sins. i need a safe place to still my breathing — without my fingers pressed on a bruise and without my hands around neck. i need a safe place — a place away from all these thoughts, away from all these hurting. away from all of me.
Darting back and forth Lie after another lie This is how we live our life Never getting the courage to change Can't ever be honest They'll think it's fake Or make their troubles exaggerated Always pushing us down Making us feel worse I don't blame them though ' It's human nature Living in the form of I To avoid conflict we stay out of sight Just like the mouse everyone wants dead That's how we're seen Just the bother Always complaining about the bad But how do we talk about the good When there is none Maybe we seem negative But when we see you laughing We think how How can that person even laugh? I could never feel that way This is how we life our life
This is a poem I'm hoping relates to the people who have been depressed. I want to give you a safe place where you don't feel alone. Let me know what you think.