#rewritten
When sadness came as a raging river
I used to reach into my trusty quiver
To pull out the Arrow made of honey
and heal the wounds that were fresh and ******
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Now, when sadness comes, I have no defense
The quiver was lost and it made no sense
Now my wounds are sore and bleeding
That honeyed Arrow was an arrow fleeting...
Apr 9, 2021
Apr 9, 2021 at 2:19 PM UTC
why judge?
dont judge?
learn to appreciate #1
real see real! lifes measured, youre weighed.. it makes an impression one that lasts #2
why shall you reign over the land of the holy which every man is natural an advically senthesized intuit besides all debt thru baptismal evasion if you dont understand you are evil #3
if you take me down with you-we all go down its code dont force the mouth that feeds you baby boi its hustle rule number 4 family matters look for our love!! look!! #4
here i tell you it was me-PREACH- i am cast out so i dont want to ever hear anyone of you cry or pitty again be happy till the end take your freedom and run with it see in gods eye #5
Jan 13, 2020
Jan 13, 2020 at 5:52 PM UTC
What do i do when i feel like i have written the words
That someone else has already spoken
Words that echoed in empty colosseums
Ones that tore out of vocal cords almost too worn to work
Both which feel upon the deaf ears of those who claim to know
But do not listen
Dec 11, 2018
Dec 11, 2018 at 2:23 PM UTC
I had a dream of the time
We were born.
We lived beautifully in the city
Of wombs.
We clapped our hands and laughed.
We drank the paint dry
And the colors of the rainbow changed.
We began to be wanted,
To be embraced,
To be loved.
And we became unable to walk alone.
We laughed at each other,
Devoting our love to only toys.
Those untouchable,
Unbreakable,
Unshakeable
Sick and mentally-ill children;
I want to break them with easy words!
The ********** set fire
In a faraway town,
Someone died.
Beckoned by lemmings,
At the end of the world,
We arrived-
But somehow survived
The apocalypse
Of our own design
Armed with weapons of paper and a pen,
Vowing to not let people
Hurt us again.
But none of that saved me
From the disgrace I felt
At the End.
Oct 3, 2018
Oct 3, 2018 at 4:06 PM UTC
a letter came for a dead man today
and i was certain, if i looked down, i'd see a ****** mangled mess beneath me where my heart sputtered and dropped right out of my chest cavity
as i watched, through a stranger's eyes, the pad of my thumb smear the ink of your name
the serrated p's and t's slicing open the makeshift stitches i used in vain to yank close the gaping hole left by your gravestone
five hundred and eleven sunrises I have seen without you
counting each one like I counted the letters you never wrote me
because I wrote you letters, but they never left the sweaty lines of my palms.
& i wrote you sonnets, couplets, painstaking metaphors like how my heart living inside your hands was like a telescope reaching for moons.
but that's the thing. you left mine unwound, dangling towards the ground and all that my lips held never reached your sky.
all ever i wanted was to make my stars and moons live inside your eyelids.
but my wishes were like flowers left next to tombstones, and you never brought me daisies.
five hundred and eleven mornings I’ve awoken
and found my hands disgusted with the way my body moves beneath me
and it wasn’t until you took your last breath that I started being grateful for mine
I hurt, do you see?
i could write you more than one poem about suffering, as routine as a heartbeat
the things i've done, the mistakes and places and the ways i've lost my pride and grace for the sake of sanity
i've spent too many hours weaving windflowers between my fingertips
hoping the stinging vines stealing circulation will bleed safety
hoping if I say your name enough times it’ll lose its incantation
but you were a magician
and I’ve still got too much pride to admit that I thought I could get rich on the lies you pulled from behind my ears
you told me that you loved me
you told me that you understood me
you told me that you needed me
you told me that you wouldn’t leave me
five hundred and eleven days ago I learned that the things you told me were as worthless as the promise you made to keep breathing
and now I’m second-guessing myself on the corner, begging strangers to tell me i’m worth something more than the words you imprinted on my lips
all this time I’ve spent trying to make the pieces of my shattered self fit together in the same way they did before your eyes became the reason that I opened mine
I don’t care what they say
They can’t tell me I’m wise for my age when I let you redefine the truths of my own existence
But I’ve had 511 days to rewrite this one, and I’ve got enough modesty now to tell you the truth.
when you died, you stole all the ways I ever felt validated
you had my secrets in your pockets, my innocence like an offering on your altar
when you took your own life, you did me a favor
A letter came for you today.
i ripped it up.
Nov 23, 2015
Nov 23, 2015 at 5:14 PM UTC
I know it's dark
And I'm scared and alone
I pray and I hope I'm not on my own
Im falling down to my own little hell
Will you please fall with me?
You say I'm an angel tattered and scorned
And at times I wish I was never born
Could you fall with me?
Be by my side every day and night?
I know you can't promise peace
But with you I'll be alright
I'll burn with you
Let
The
Flames
Consume us
May death unburden us
Ease me of my pain
I'm killing the past
These things won't last
I can't change yesterday's pain
But you bring hope of brighter days
I'm falling with you
Aug 26, 2014
Aug 26, 2014 at 5:46 PM UTC