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Hide Nov 1
I used to hate-
How I stayed within the lines,
In the pictures I portrayed.
I used to hate-
How I thought once, twice, three times,
And still could not decide,
What I wanted to make.
I used to hate-
The bubble I was stuck in,
The structure I never punctured,
The rules in my head,
Like some wings I could not spread;

While I observed the beautiful swirling imperfect creations of my peers,
Who would draw on their Converse - add piercings to their ears;
Magical and free. I admired their creativity,
As I let the gas settle back in my shaken-up bottle,
Thinking will I eventually run out of throttle?
Grabbing moments of impulsivity, always followed by second, third and fourth thoughts -
Till they pass, and I'm back to my indecisive self.

But now I like my thought-out decisions,
I like the tasks I deem worthy to finish.
Not as free as my peers, and I still like their beauty-
But this world need us both: the fun and the duty.
M Vogel Oct 15

You are a tremendous overthinker
that's for sure. Taking a person like
you on.. with all your chaos
is no small task.
  In order to do that,
I have to take care of myself..
in order to keep from being
pulled down.. or pulled into
your chaotic whirlwind.
  So I create parameters of protection
through my words sometimes
when we talk.

You are not an easy person to take on.

  There are few people in the world
that are even able to truly take on a person
like you, within any kind of depth.
  That is how chaotically traumatized
the inside of your whole beautiful
body is. And somehow you take it
personally when I try to bring
structure in,.  as though you're three
years old,
  and you take regular grown up talk
  as being some kind of threat.
  But.. you are fragmented  and ripped
to shreds on the inside  by those
who truly brought harm
instead of good when you were little.  
  From that place inside of you, a
anything feels like judgment.
Anything feels like it's trying to control you
or put things inside you.

I know that.. and I still love you

  Loving a person in your condition
requires a certain level of self protection.
It's like I have to tie a
special rope around myself when I
jump into your world..  so I can be
pulled back out.
  For me..
The structure of my own words are that rope.
  It is the only way I can love you deeply
and enter into your absolutely broken world
  Please try to understand..
even though it scares you..

Just how much I need that

  If you are able to do that,
then I think you might even be able
to actually love me.
I did not come to steal,
or control..
  .. or fix

I came to be there for you

within all of your broken chaos



"Today is yesterday when you don't know
how to rebuild the walls
that someone has knocked down..

To tell the truth,
it's hard enough without a lover
who you want to hide your darkness from
so they won't let you down"

https://youtu.be/ZeDZCixQpvo?si=3VvphGSflD3R6D95

😔xoxo
Carlo C Gomez Mar 26
~
Belonging to Eden,
the garden of
inescapable pleasure.

Prepare to fall again
for the pretty things.

The desire to preserve life
lies at the root.

The way of flowers
--let them beckon and bloom--
sincerely upright,
vessels for memories,
methods of communicating
with distant versions of yourself,
a conversation that could
drift into tears or laughter,
personal revelation
or total silence,
depending on the mood.

If only time and thought
could be as perfectly
arranged as flowers.

~
Jeremy Betts Feb 4
Let's talk honestly shall we?

It's easier to have a face to face with the devil
To communicate with the dead and summon evil
Draw a circle, scratch a pentagram in the middle
With a flame dancing on the peak of a candle
Flickering at the outmost tips of the symbol
Sandle wood incent lit, hit a gong or crash symbol
Then a little rhythmic hum to conclude the opening ritual

Pretty simple

The theatrical aspect varies culture to culture
But the critical structure, the essence, the flavor
The nature of "just call and I'll be there" is there
Let's be honest here, you don't get that with prayer
You'd have better luck with a comatose soothsayer
A blind palm reader, or and end of days sandwich board holder
The one on the corner screaming about unspeakable horror

Just think about it

What do you got to do to talk to your lord and savior?
Is his policy open door?
Does he have your back while going through your personal war?
You're trying to survive the unjust life he made and you're in store for
He just stands back and tallies the score
"IF YOU WEREN'T GOING TO HELP THEN WHAT WERE THE EXTRA SET OF FOOTPRINTS IN THE SAND FOR?!?"
This is straight from his written lore, though purposely vague on what's real and what's a metaphor

What are the odds you're right?

He designed you to never be able to directly interact,
Explain that
It's a wildly overlooked fact
Infact,
It's what knocks his believability off track
You look at him and you go blind as a bat,
Why would he do that?
His voice will cause your ears to bleed if your head doesn't explode on first contact
He didn't have to design it like that!
The only answered prayers are those of musicians, athletes and the beautiful people who can act
The rest of us? Good luck Jack
If he hears your prayers then most of the times he's just like, "naw, fuuck that."
What's up with that?

Pretty convenient

©2024
Shying away from universally decided "just don't bring it up" topics, politics and religion of course the two biggest examples, will hurt societies (globe, country, state, county, city, town or cul-de-sac) more than it wil divide them. There's extremist on every side coming from every angle but they must not be allowed to roost at the top lest we forget how long and dire the fall would be.
Thanks for reading, I appreciate you.
lirau Jan 8
Ripples on dark and cold stone shores bring forward memory
Near the lake, I seek out the path to dark waters
Asleep not long ago, time has lost its tight hold
Escape is disgrace.
my structure comes in the form of
coffee,
poetry
& *******

i drink coffee to stay awake
long enough to write words
to ******* through life
so that i can explain to people

how my structure comes in the form of
coffee,
poetry,
& *******
my structure comes in the form of
Xella Dec 2020
You must pray for the fickle and weak.
As we all need to make it through the heat.
Your whiskey neat burns down the branches of your chest as you speak.
Expand into a balloon, the crowd won’t bow but shake their heads.
They can not believe this tale you live, the life in a comfy castle cove.
The girls back home cry, denying all this fallacy.
A fairytale facade or so it seems.
Really it can not be like this, this isn’t reality.
This can not be like you or me.
We aren’t merely copies, are we?
They cry tears in the shape of rapids that carve rivers down your cheeks.
To take her to the moon will settle, remedy this pain.
So give me a few years and I’ll get you there.
For now pray for the fickle and weak as they aren’t lost, but free.
Changed it a bit.
Douglas Greene Oct 2020
Just wanting to reside,
a life with no complications,
Not a life with free rides,
or without death and frustrations,

Just a life with reason,
Deserved rewards without rupture,
Just something worth keeping,
I just want guidance and structure...
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