How do we dare to doubt? It's because we aren't used to happiness in life For far too long we have been the ones who give Maybe, that's why it is so hard for us to receive We are scared of being backstabbed Know life as the cruel place without light We are shy, timid creatures Coming to be tamed by love
Be nice Live politely Be small. Be small. Be small.
Be sweet Live righteously Be small. Be small. Be small.
I'm here but am I? I love all the street cats. I'm here but you won't see All the ancient souls in me. I'm here but am I? Instead I listened quietly. I'm here but oft forgot, Drain my empathy. I am right here, I am. With borrowed sorrow, I am here, right here, Listening. Listening. Listening.
I once pride myself on my ability to be unreadable . maybe I still do , who knows . there is this comfort in not having anything to lose , or so it seems . but there's this thing in your smile... I've never been one for reassurance but those two words were all that I didn't know that I needed to hear . there is solace in knowing that I can feel . maybe I don't want anyone to feel it the way I do . your laugh makes it all undeniable ; I can't help but look and wonder where you've been . how was life back home? any cobblestone roads? I'll wear my heart on my sleeve and try maybe you'll help me get the confidence I fake .
An average being on earth Who never tried to take a big leap. An average being on earth Who has always been a timid. An average being on earth Who never dared to upset anyone. An average being on earth Who shouts out from her heart now Someone on earth please hear her out.
An affinity sequestered away in a languid beat of my heart. To whom I've fallen for so gravely ill, this churning affection grows a part within me.
The fire toils for a great satisfaction, one of which I cannot fufill. The strung voices that I provoke to keep you in the know are nothing but a timid reliance to keep me in the dark; a fault I've succumbed to, and a death I'll forever hold in disconcertion.
Perhaps it is best I keep the key for my own, but this pent affliction will be a pernicious ailment, gutting me within as the present becomes the past—day by day.
Oh, how I walk among the shadows, lurking in a void, consumed by the daunting portents of failure. Oh, how the hauntings of what could have been lingers.
But, alas, my silence has spoken, and now I must walk the shade of night and bear the quietude of my lonely plight.
I think of you, but not you of me, For I am shackled, and you are free. Now the words are clear, but I’ll never tell For I am pigeon-livered and lack gall. The recursive words stay in my head– They leave me not and make me mad– I am now the jester in time’s flow, Put on a show so you won’t know How the words are free, And good to go, Yet woe is me, My mind’s not free.
The words are there on the tip of your tongue, but your mind is holding them back... Why can't we folow our hearts for once?
Eye contact is not an option I can’t hold a conversation It’s basically impossible Fitting in is not my forte I can’t even explain What it feels like To NOT be able to talk Even when you really want to Even after hours of mental preparation Nothing comes out Not even a squeak Social anxiety kinda *****
Sorry, my poetry has gotten extremely sloppy. And I’ve been facing MAJOR writers block. Any suggestions on how to get over this??
Peel me mangos And the pain goes and mixes with the fruit’s sweet flesh, Dripping fresh and bitter-sweet
You still come to me when I’m asleep to whisper pretty nothings in my ear until my brow sears each passing thought with your image I imagine you as timid as at our first meeting, as bold as at our last, your laughter repeating on and on and on
on our last day you kissed me sweetly, the taste of mango on your lips