A poet,
hopeful; on course.
Writing not for interest,
but due to force.

A writer,
worried somewhere near.
Writing not for interest,
but due to fear.

THE POET IS AWAKE AT NIGHT
HER PENCIL SPEWS OUT PAIN AND FRIGHT
A GOOD NIGHT’S SLEEP IS OFTEN RARE
WAKE HER TOMORROW IF YOU DARE
THE PAIN IS RAGING, COUNT TO TEN
ERASE IT ALL AND START AGAIN
A FEW MORE WORDS, YOUNG LOGOPHILE
THE TORMENT ONLY LASTS A WHILE
THE LYRICS FROM HER SHATTERED HEART
THE SEAS OF DULLNESS SEEM TO PART
HER BODY AND HER HEART GROW COLD
SHE HOPES THE AUDIENCE IS SOLD
THE POET IS AWAKE AT NIGHT
HER PENCIL SPEWS OUT PAIN AND FRIGHT

Once upon on a time, I had feelings.
And now it has drained.
Once upon times I was really happy,
And now it has declined.
Once upon a time I was yours,
And now I became a writer.

When no one is looking, words burst from my head
Inside my skull are colours, scents and sounds
And my life is played out to a relentless sonorous soundtrack

Sometimes the music collapses with waves of resonance
And in others it is plucked like strings, individual and soft
It’s perceived by my inner ear, it’s not for others to hear

When I am out of sight, I’m truly at my very best
For life is like a swirling whirl of different shades
Different shapes and forms, some almost difficult to perceive

I try to put these on paper, shape the thoughts that I have
But the best, these arrive in the depth of the gloom
And in the early morning, they are once again forgotten

These words that slip through the fingers of my recollection
Flowing with the brightest of sparks, glowing embers of ideas
Impressions lost in the falling mornings sunlight

In front of my keyboard I then sit, puzzled chin in hand
Fingers tap the keys and yet nothing of excellence appears
So another day, with the words remaining inside my head

Growing up we’d see those high school movies with that one kid who commits suicide.
And we’d say “That would never be me.” Or “This can’t be serious.”
But I had found myself in that position. And god it’s the worst ******* thing ever.
I had found myself alone like that kid in the movie.
I had found myself depressed like that kid in the movie.
I had found myself skipping breakfast and lunch because I had no one to sit with.
Because sadly I don’t have the ***** to get up and make friends.
And apparently that’s my fault. And I apologize.
I’m sorry my brain has the power to bring myself esteem down.
I’m sorry I stutter and shake because my anxiety couldn’t recognize a familiar face.
And I might be like the kid in the movie but I will not end up like the kid in the movie.
But in a way I did end up like him. Because those words and those feelings I felt.
Killed me. Not in a way where it had physically put me six feet underground.
But in a way where those words and feelings killed me that my mind just stood blank.
And my emotions had been long gone I don’t recall the last time I even smiled.
Thinking about it I did end up like the kid in the movie.

I hope one day to be read
by a scholar
the careful counting of my lines
calculating their cadence upon some parchment,
it matters not

I hope one day to be read
by a child
swirled spirals capturing the margins as
she rewrites her own story over the words to match
the colors and dragons in her head

I hope one day to be read or
written on the back of some hand
a wishful keepsake for a day
inspiring some great thoughts
or little ones, at least–Perhaps!

Perhaps
I’ll never be read
by some insightful stranger or
inspire grandiosity at all

instead
conserve unspoken words
by ink to paper

--
c

Will we ever talk again?
The question circles in my head.
I ruined my only chance.
Will the romance be only in my head?

Will we ever talk again?
It’s something hard to answer.
Did I lose what we once had?
Now that’s something hard to answer.

Will we ever talk again?
Would he even really want to?
If we happened to bump into each other,
Is it something he’d even really want to?

Will we ever talk again?
Is the answer yes or no?
If yes, I’m broken. If no, I’m broken.
Does the answer have to be yes or no?

Will we ever talk again?
Maybe It’s a choice I must make.
I will walk up to him and say “Hello,”
For it’s a choice I must make.