#poetrytherapy
Dead Grass
It is agony to feel irrelevant.
I wonder if the earth swallowed me
anyone would worry I was gone
or be more concerned about
why the grass won’t grow any more.
Aug 31, 2025
Aug 31, 2025 at 12:52 AM UTC
My bones ache from all
the cleaning I've done.
I've cleaned up all the dust
and finally hit the floorboards that
I always tell myself that I’m going to clean.
The patches in my life that always seem to be going right, until I look closer.
I've picked up and sorted through
all the clothes I've let pile up
on the couch.
The clothes that have waited
for someone to come in and take
the place of.
I've cleaned between the cracks
of the tiles in the kitchen
and scrubbed down the walls
Of my heart.
Although I am tired, I still keep going.
I haven't felt
this way in a long time.
I feel alive,
making room in my heart for someone new.
I've gotten rid of
all the things that I thought
held meaning in my life.
The ghost of the person I thought
I was, now in the trash.
I hear him screaming,
waving his hands around, asking hey what happened.
I am making room for you in my heart
with every intention
of hoping that you'll stay.
Or at the very least, leave a part of you
With me.
I've cleaned between the cracks
of the tiles in the kitchen
and scrubbed down all the walls,
Even the parts behind the furniture.
I am ready, whenever you are
comfortable enough to move in.
I'll even help unpack
Nov 23, 2024
Nov 23, 2024 at 3:59 PM UTC
It’s like you plan to feed yourself with time
but never take any seconds. And I swear —
you could hear me second-guessing
myself over a plate full of food for thought,
just trying to feed a little of my ego. And it takes
a while to finish expressing myself — so let me take
the express train on any passing train of thought.
Cos it’s a full course — learning how to be well fed
in a world where everyone’s trying to make bread
while praying for that _daily bread_.
A man does all that he can for himself, before he
even says __Amen__! And all men are expected
to have themselves in order — but never given
the time of day to order the meal that fills their worth.
Because most of that time gets spent spending on
somebody else’s worth.
And sometimes, I wonder if it’s really worth it at all.
There’s a man who regrets giving it all to a girl
who became somebody else’s girl…that sentiment,
_doesn’t only apply to him giving his all to girls._
—He gave everything to a seemingly self-fulfilled
world! __And that meal is always so cold...__
Jul 6, 2025
Jul 6, 2025 at 7:22 PM UTC
Compassion is all it would take
For God to fix His one mistake
Turn back time, for instance
And erase me from existence.
Not for me to go to hell
Tis merely this life that I repell
And Heaven I certainly don't deserve
Your name o lord, I failed to serve.
I'll sit in hope that you'll soon reset,
As for my name, let them all forget.
Nov 4, 2024
Nov 4, 2024 at 11:32 AM UTC