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I rollover on the bed
face the wall
stare at the lines and cracks.

I give the wall a talking to,
tell me lies. I'll tell you my lies.

and i'm telling the wall,
the future looks bright. i'm planning
my own crazy, this time,

i use a black magic marker,
draw a wide rectangular
picture window across the white wall, then

sand, seashore, and sea stacks in the ocean.
can you smell the salt air?
i'm asking my wall.

don't look at me cracks,
like that.

the wall sighs,
and the bones of this old building
reply with a moan.

i'm inventing my own madness, so

look,
the sand pipers
are darting here and there
across the sand
avoiding the gentle lapping of the waves.

and the long wing shearwaters
flying low, gliding,
just barely above the tips of waves.

i'm planning my own foolishness.

some loves last for so long
like a song without a name
and you never know
when love will walk into a heart

and I'm going to run
far away
from sidewalk ledges
rooms with cracks in the wall,
far away from here.

and, Oh, wall, hang not the albatross around my neck.
  Feb 1 Bekah Halle
Emma
In the cramped silence of the toilet,  
echoes of fractured thoughts spiral,  
the walls constrict, a breath held in,  
where shadows twist like fingers,  
clenching the air, a tightrope of despair,  
normalcy dissolves like sugar in bitter tea,  
my pulse stutters, a metronome lost,  
Hitchcockian dread unfurls its dark wings,  
memories bleed crimson, pooling beneath the sink.

I cannot endure this solitude,  
where are you, phantom of my heart?  
Your golden essence, a cruel sun—  
breaking me open, revealing raw flickers,  
sacrifices made to coax a smile  
from the depths of my ashen soul.  
Hush, now—the tears tumble,  
each drop a stone, sinking,  
a release from this coiled torment,  
trapped in a moment where time slips.

Tired of running, running forever,  
this pretty broken girl, genuinely wronged,  
the world outside a distant murmur,  
yet hope flickers, fragile as a candle’s flame,  
a soft beacon in the cavernous dark,  
reminding me that even in despair,  
life whispers its stubborn promise,  
that one day, I may find my way home.
It's been s long week and I'm exhausted yesterday I wrote two poems, feeling very burdened down, hope I get to rest this weekend.
Bekah Halle Feb 1
Step by step your dependence grows;
Worldliness discarded: trophies, titles, triumphantism — the tyranny of the soul.
Eventually bare: standing face to face with the glory there,
No distractions; joy starts to pop up in simplicity
A smile, a glance, a taste, a dance, a puzzle solved, an encounter by chance.
Now you can live more healthily.
Bekah Halle Jan 31
I carry a heavy, wounded spirit,
Failure, rejection; my ego can’t handle it!
I turn into a little kid, not getting my way,
I cry out, scream on the inside trying to hear what it is You say;

Pride just wants to shut me down,
Disown me, rob me of my crown.
But it’s only when I surrender before thee,
That you open my eyes so I can see,

Love still surrounds, alone I am not,
I will feel and trust, believe that You have not forgot.
I await Your leading,
Protect me from myself’s heeding.
Bekah Halle Jan 30
Desire drives destiny;
conflicting head and heart disconnects,
complete abandonment overwhelms
Teetering between mutiny,
Or of becoming.

Dreams haunt my nighttime,
hope deferred makes my heart sick.
Courage is what I crave,
Being brave all the time,
Amounting to something.
  Jan 29 Bekah Halle
Kaiden
I'd rather live through the trauma
That i know,
Instead of starting a new one.
I was given the choice of living with my father and my mother (and her boyfriend). He's abusive but I'd rather suffer through the trauma I know than a new type of trauma where i wouldn't know how to deal with it.
Bekah Halle Jan 29
Cold and dark; sadness looms overhead umbrella-like,
Comforting, not.
Swallowing from within.
Yonder, the door opens and a light shines in.
Sadness flees as company beckons.
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