#lackthereof
*True eternal Greatness
Springs
From a fountain
Of abject humility.*
Mar 3, 2015
Mar 3, 2015 at 6:06 AM UTC
Give me your inspiration.
Come on, you have enough already.
This isn’t fair, I protest;
how is it that you can create
a dozen pretty iced-cupcake poems
a day and I can’t?
Honestly –
sharing is caring.
I don’t want it all,
just a little bit.
A tenth will suffice.
It won’t take much from you,
I swear! you’ll still be writing
ten-point-eight cupcakes
a day.
Now would that be so bad?
No? Well, then.
Be like that.
It’s not like
I need inspiration …
May 2, 2014
May 2, 2014 at 2:07 AM UTC
Sometimes I worry
that I will always be
alone.
Oh, hey,
aren't I
cliche?
24-years-young
and talking
like an old maid.
But you know what,
**** whoever
decided that just
because you're young,
loneliness isn't a concern,
and just because you
have time ahead of you
doesn't mean
living without love isn't
painful.
Every man,
if you can even call them that,
that peaks my interest
finds a reason to say,
it's not you, it's me,
but at this point,
as I watch everyone around me
settle down and
find someone,
I can't help but wonder if
it's not them, it's me.
I try to think about
what I look like on paper.
I am the first to
admit my flaws.
I'm not the skinniest,
I'm not the funniest,
I'm not the coolest,
I talk too much,
I involve myself too often
and too deeply
in others,
I am overly sensitive,
I have never been popular,
and I'm sure
I could name at least
50 other things someone would
find less-than-favorable.
But then I try to remember that
I am ambitious,
I am bright,
I am kind,
I am empathetic,
I am family-oriented;
I have a lot of hobbies,
I can always hold a conversation,
and I've been told
I'm pretty
at least on an
occasion or two.
I'm not all good,
but I'm not all bad.
And I think, as
cheesy as it sounds,
that everyone is entitled to
love.
So I can't help but wonder
what I'm putting into the
universe,
what I'm lacking,
what more I need to do
before someone can love me;
**** even just staying
interested for more than
a couple weeks,
even that would suffice.
This isn't some self-deprecating,
some depressing
ode of a sad single girl.
It's just a series of words
to question
why
and where
and how
and when
I will find love,
why I'm
still lacking,
who I'm waiting for.
What
explanation
is there for
this loneliness,
for these years I've spent
love-less,
for even the years prior
where the "love" I felt
was so wrong
and destructive?
Is it me?
Or
Is it them?
Feb 8, 2015
Feb 8, 2015 at 12:50 AM UTC