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Tatiana Dec 2017
My eyes can trace the next steps
carefully caress the footprints
As they're within several feet
and at the distance
My vision can't be beat.

But the steps seem to travel further
Wuthering winds blow dust over them
and my vision becomes blurry
I'll lose sight of them soon
If I don't hurry.

Myopia is so commonplace
Commenting on its existence
seems silly to me
But I'm a slave to my glasses
Without them, I can't really see.
© Tatiana
Tatiana Dec 2017
If I wrote a book would people read it?
Maybe
Maybe not.
But I need to write.
I really need to.
I should probably do what's right
and write.
I'm very much trapped right now and I need to write
Tatiana Nov 2017
The paths through forests are covered in leaves
that crumple loudly beneath my feet.
Wind makes those that still cling to the trees,
shiver with a subtle musicality.

The paths wind around homes of the birds,
who ruffle their feathers and always chirp.
But danger creates a silence to endure,
Ignorance leads to being interred.

The paths lead to a mumbling brook
rocks part the waters where they were put.
And they move loudly beneath my foot,
pressure forcing sounds and I shook.

The paths loop around and attach
the sounds jar together like a scratch
of a record that suffered a sudden impact.
I cover my ears and try not to react.

The paths are suffering from this dissonance
my ears are damaged and blistering.
Why is the music of nature distancing
from me, can it be I'm just not listening?
© Tatiana
A bunch of near rhymes and too many thoughts
Tatiana Nov 2017
Who controls the rain?
I'd really like to know
Because it always seems to rain
when someone has to go.
© Tatiana
Here's a short one that just expresses my experience with someone passing away and how it always seems to be raining.
  Nov 2017 Tatiana
Amanda Shelton
I once was able to run
nine miles a day,
now all those miles
seem so far away.

I am like a tree,
I am rooted where I stand
I am twisted up in unforgiving knots.

I know you think you understand,
but the truth is you don't
because you can move
and use your hands.

I am stuck twisted and contorted
in ways you could never understand.

My back is bent and rusted,
my knees creak and pop,
like an old car,
but I ran out of oil for my joints
now there stuck in odd positions.
You can only imagine.

I hurt, my pain burns to the bone,
grinding ******* my every move.

I can't move like you,
I twitch and ****,
I shake and stutter,
my mind is full of painful clutter.

Dystonia since 1981,
I was born with a twitch, ****,
and a stuttering switch with every move I make.
My nickname is Mizztwitch.*

*© 2017 By Amanda Shelton
Dystonia is a rare movement disorder. It causes odd movements and positions. It can cause your body to contort in painful ways. Like my feet they want to turn in and upward. My hands and feet cramp so do my arms and legs. I have been taken to the hospital many times before because of Dystonia. It's unpredictable and doctor's freak out if they have never seen a patient who suffers from it. I think anyone who has a heart would. I have had nurses break down crying because they couldn't take away my pain. I am a very strong person because I have to be to live through everything I have.
Tatiana Nov 2017
I'm like a snuffed out candle
with its smoke still curling
into the dark sky.
A wispy grayish white,
still visible at night.

The scent still lingers
it's not quite ready to leave
the area it called home.
Still making its presence known,
but fading as the winds groan.

The immediate darkness that settles
around the snuffed out candle
is heavy and forboding.
Yet its still intoxicating,
though the silence is suffocating.

I'm like a snuffed out candle
because I burn bright when needed
and extinguished when I'm not.
Like my light is for others to use
and for the world to abuse.
© Tatiana
Oh hey! It's my 300th published poem! That's kind of cool.
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