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The family tree is dying
Everyone seems to be lying.
The tree is falling apart,
Everyone stops caring
My family grew from the same roots,
But our branches are growing so far apart.
Everyone is letting this demon into their heart.


I am planting my own tree.
This tree is going to grow in upmost care,
With no one to stare at us.
This tree
I will call my own
Will have strong roots,
Values and traditions.
While the old tree dies away with every bad omen.


This tree will grow with care.
It will grow with every emotion to spare.
I will feed my new tree with genuine love and understanding,
No more fighting.
No more judging.
Just pure patience
Our branches will grow intertwined.
The roots go deep into the ground,
Tons of people in so many places.
But the past is dying.
The traditions are dying like a malnourished plant.
I cannot believe how low this tree is coming.’
These roots which grew deep
Are soaking in poison
Feeding the poison through the tree,
And affecting the modern members.
Anger the only root.
These roots are becoming ghosts.
They watch us.
Our moves.
Our actions.
My family is not a family.
These roots which was so deep are killing us at the top
Our lives falling like leaves in the fall.
I know that I want to make a new tree.
But let it not be in vein.
I will learn from this old tree,
An old mentor,
Who lived a life most unsatisfied.
This new life starts at 18,
Carving my name at the beginning,
And as I live,
I will see the sapling grow,
While watching the other tree die.
Its pain is my gain,
Because I am learning the tricks of the trade,
I am learning how to escape the grips of anger,
The accuser who condemned my family for generations.
I will break free,
Grow with the tree.

My family’s branches are high, but alas far.
They are becoming separated, but I am young and watching.
They say that your life is set by your parents,
But I am not fueled by abusive fire,
I have grown past them,
I have thrown this virus of the tree away.
I am not going to fix their problems,
But I am growing my own success,
My future.
This sapling here,
The seed to be birthed,
It is going to grow,
So tall.
These notes I have scribbled,
Will lead to the happiness of my child,
The contentness of my wife,
The success of the spawn of us.
This tree is going to take a long time to grow.
It will learn from its mistakes as its predecessor did not.
It will be tall.
Making this broken tree nothing more than a shell,
This life,
This tree.
It is going to be free.
The sickening evil for blood with dry up,
The new tree will feed on smiles and happiness,
And out will sprout
The family,
I have always hoped for.

But this hope started somewhere.
This hope I birthed had pain.
It is a spawn of abuse.
Which seems to be the main cause for the old tree to dig so deep.
The anger of the leader spread somewhere,
And though not everyone is the cause,
We were ALL effected.
It took our values
Pushed them to the depths of hell
And left a chilling heat of anger and hate,
And though this is a debate,
Our family’s trajectory is going straight to hell,
Back to the man who gave us anger.
I cry today,
For those who were consumed by the darkness.
I feel sorry for those in the tree who did not reach for the sun,
Who did not fight for the family,
Who did not fight the urge to inflict pain.
A sad thing indeed,
But this is why I have the need
To start again.
This is why this life,
This current tree
Just isn’t working.
I’m tired of being fed hate.
It not too late.
My tree is going to grow strong.
It’s starting now,
Here
Today
It always has been.
I was superglued to someone else’s tree.
Taught their values.
Taught their insecurities and told they were my own.
But the forbidden word.
No.
Is becoming my advocate.
I will reach for the sun.
I vow to encourage
I vow to take what is rightfully mine.
I vow to start anew.
Make this tree reach high.
This new tree will never know the “Mendoza” way of things.
This new tree
Started by a sad situation
And a definite resolution
Is becoming truth.
I may have grew up in the poison,
But more and more ii have found a cure,
Immune to anger
To hate
I have found that these roots of their tree,
Which has poisoned each twig,
Has one fault.
It never tried to reach for the sun.
So I,
I take this,
And I make this my own.
This house is not my home,
But things will bend
And I will break,
And start anew.
I will live to see my family flourish.
As its predecessor did not
for my family
Got Guanxi May 2015
One year on....

My Nana has unfortunately passed away after a valiant fight against cancer. In this passing we have lost a lovely woman who meant the world to our whole family. Me and my cousins affectionally called her 'straight Nana' as when we were younger we were lucky to also still have our great gran around who we called 'curly Nana' this was based on the fact that Nana Pauline has Straight hair and her mother had curly hair. In all my years I've have never heard even a choice word said against her spirit or character which is truly a rare commodity in this day and age.



She lived a full life and had three amazing daughters and a step son who she raised as her own. Thirteen grandchildren one being myself and five great grandkids. Thankfully we recently all got together and she was able to see her whole family together for the first time. I could see how happy it made her that day to see the legacy she had created and more importantly that we all were in a good place before she left us for the final time.



'May the wind always be on your back and the sun always upon your face and may the winds of destiny carry you aloft to dance with the stars '



My mother was very young when she had me so the support that my Nan gave her as I grew up was vital. Without her me and my mum would of struggled but we always had a safetynet of support that we could rely on that was invaluable to us both. I know this notion is appreciated by my aunties and cousins too. We all share our own individual special memories as well as collective moments too that we will never forget. I would appreciate it so much if anybody has any memories stories that they wish to share as I know they will help us all as a family as we cope with this difficult time.




Cara: ". I once mistakingly rang there (labour club) instead of nanas house looking for mum, nana answered anyway, and passed me on to mum! Good job I got the wrong number! 



Her husband John is a great man who was with my Nana for her last 20 years. He is a part of our family and I hope he knows that we will always be here for him and I look I will look forward to his Sunday Dinners in future and having a beer in the back garden in tribute to our usual routine. I know I'm not alone when I say we are always here for you and we love you
and respect you so much. If you ever need anything please do not forget that.


She had a a gift for poetry that was exposed when she made her way to Facebook. I would always giggle at the little dittys she would loving, yet embarrassingly post to our Facebook walls with affection, nailing little pockets of the personalities of the protagonists each time she wrote them. Reading back some of these small potent poems know I smile as a proud Grandson and I'm happy we will all each have our own little prose to refer to in the future. 




From Moat Road, to Winterslow Avenue, Clover  Croft and finally your home in Widnes - I'll always remember each place fondly for reasons as they represents different periods of my life as I've grown up. My blue bear and parties, your back garden at Moat Road. Snowballs and magic tricks, teddy football at Winterslow Avenue. Clovere Croft was a place of refuge in my teenage years, your naughty rabbits and old school cooked dinners and misbehaving Malig. The dog who you took in and never left your side. The Labour club, where you worked hard and played hard! The beautiful garden you have created that will grow and remind us of your colourful nature as the flowers grow and bloom each year. I know John will tender them with care and think of you with a smile as he listens to smooth FM and remembers all the great times that you both spent together there. 



'if winter comes can spring be far behind?'



As a woman she was truly beautiful, a short stunning blonde. Her three daughters each different in ways but each a  reflection of there mother in their own unique ways.  Looking at them now they are all testament to her gorgeous genes and gentle, kind nature.



Nana was the most amazing crossword completer I have ever met. I was consistently surprised by her ability to finish these crosswords as she watched daytime TV and it was one of the small funny things that made me really proud of her. She filled in the gaps that was synomomus to her life.

Each of her daughters have fought through hard times and she provided a back bone of support that helped them reach the stability and happiness in their lives today. I know she said to me personally how she had comes to terms with her fate and that she was especially happy my Aunty Julie has found happiness with a good man like her sisters. I feel this represented the final piece to the puzzle for her and as usual she was able to complete this before she left. She took great solace in this fact - and so she should. It made me feel a small element of contentness when she told me this during one of our last conversations together.



To all my cousins now is the time to step up and being there for your mums. I have no doubt you will be.  I am proud of you all and you all have a special place in my thoughts. You all have great qualities and potential and it's been a pleasure to watch you all grow up into fine young men and ladies, even mothers.  Please never hesitate to contact me if you need to talk or share your thoughts. I know we will remain strong as a unit and we will get through this tough time together as a family!


In closing I want to thank my Nana just for simply being her. I will hold you in a special place in my heart forever and you will never be forgotten. Each Christmas I will toast you with a Jack Daniels (Nan would always buy the guys a JD related present every year) I will never taste that whiskey again without a passing thought for you as it passes my lips. I know I will not be the only one with this sentiment.

Even as a close family - I still hope this brings us all together and that we use this experience to better ourselves in our own personal ways. Fight hard to reach your potential and stay true to your essence and the person you desire or have chosen to be. It's these times that expose what really matters to you - embrace those thoughts and do not lose them in grief or forget them in time.

I am so proud of you.
Goodby Nana. I love you.
Your Grandson,
Nathan x
this was difficult to revisit but it's important to remember those you love most and don't take a fleeting moment for granted.
Circa 1994 Jan 2014
And that's as close as any of us get
To touching happiness...
Contentness.

But it's never enough to satisfy us.
Only enough to make us miserable.
Tark Wain Apr 2016
Hello,
I know I shouldn't have to introduce myself
for obvious reasons
but it's apparent to me
that we can so readily change who we are
in that matter of a few years
we are a completely distinct
being from what we once are

but enough about me
I'm living me and you lived it
we know about me
what are you like now?
can you even answer that
can you look at yourself in the mirror
how much do you lie
how much do you hate yourself

these aren't fair questions
i know
completely inappropriate for a job interview
i get it
you've changed
i feel the fetus that is you
nestled inside of me
waiting to come out

you are not innocent
none of us are
but you especially
you claim to be something you're not
you gleefully toe the line between good and bad
blissfully confident of your place
there is no line we both know that
but you toe it anyway

why am i so accusatory?
me?
YOU JUDGE ME
you of all people
the person I have become
YOU JUDGE ME
no
I won't have it

Monsters.
They tell us why they are interesting
"because they weren't always monsters"
*******
a caterpillar is still a butterfly
they are one in the same
just because something changed
doesn't mean you changed

I get it
you blame me for you
i get it
well what do you want
what could I do
to make you happy
to make you better
to make you.... loveable

do the right thing
most of the time
when you can
do the right thing
help people
as a matter of self respect
educate yourself
when others fail too

be fair
be strong yes
but don't forget to be fair
money doesn't matter
having enough matters sure
but you don't need a yacht
be the smartest man in the room
even when you know you're not

treat the homeless with respect
they are the ones that need it the most
respect common sense before religion
respect contentness before exhilaration
don't eat when a waiter is at the table
don't let your good idea lose to a popular one
never let someone intimidate you
unless they have a gun

love
love unconditionally
let your heart be broken
so that one day someone can help put it out together
don't settle
unless you know you should
never become a cynic
please never do that

be better than me future self
please
I will do my best to make it so
I hope one day you will read this
with a smile
knowing that you became
the person that I
doubted you could
Scott Veinland Sep 2013
Me
Little is known about Graham
I see him everyday, yet, I know nothing about him
Nor does anyone else

He sits in a circle, the circle includes himself and stuffed animals
He sits there, in the yard of his beautiful house

Although he seems content, with his home and... friends...
I can't help but feel an aura of sadness around him
Why though?
He has it made! His parents were rich, he's never worked a day of his life for anything

I have heard rumors, however, that he's a nice man
Loving
and quite congenial
But how could anyone know that?
No one knows him!
People judge Graham based on what they see
And they see contentness
They walk by his home a glance over to a seemingly happy man
Surrounded by his stuffed animals, err, friends

Then why do I feel this aura of sadness around him?


Surely he knows they're not real...
That if he were to leave them, they wouldn't call for him to come back...
He must know that
He must...

But, there they are. Gathered in front of his perfect house
Happily chatting away, as if nothing is wrong


I'm sure one day he'll wake up and realize it
Realize that they're not real, the stuffed animals
are not real
That they don't care for him
That they can't care for him
All he needs
is to just
snap out of it...
and wake up






Hey guys! That was a poem that took me a long time to write, I know it's probably pretty bad, I'm only 16. But that poem was about me, how I'm surrounded by friends that aren't real friends, but they're there. It's true, I've never worked a day of my life for anything. Never worked to have friends, people just naturally like me I guess. But deep down I know im not who they think i am, that im not truly happy. Anyway, please leave feedback if you think i could've worded something better, anything is appreciated, I'm very new!
~Thanks,
        -Graeme
Realeboga M Sep 2016
Today
Today I saw nothing but blissness,
Covered up with clouds of video games and the exotic taste of Wi-Fi to lead me in the direction of blindness.

Today
Today I felt my thumb and index finger throb in exhilaration with just a teaspoon of rejuvenating pain.

Today I sat anxiously looking at the screen,
Running away from reality by re-creating a fantasy where I was the hero.

Today I ran away from this distasteful land.
Just like most people would.

Today I became an ignorant human being.

I followed the loud whispers of 'ignorance is bliss'
And for that I got the sweet serene kiss of nothingness.

Yes I admit today I was ignorant and I ran
Dodging and jumping, avoiding trouble in the forest of life.
After all there's only so much one can handle.

Responsibility called out to me and I pulled my get out of jail free card and I sat in front of the screen.
Envisioning a world like my video game.

Today I was ignorant
But not for long.

Leaving my sanctuary screen,
It was that time,
The time where my chores screens in "finish me,  do me, it's about that time",
Reluctantly I stood, eyes fixated on the trash I had to take,
With a heavy sigh.
I listened to the callings of my chores.

Plastic in my hand filled with yesterday's food,
Today's cleanings and maybe a little bit of breakfast.
Stomping down the stairs,
Unaware of my surroundings,
As ignorance enveloped me in a tight hug.
Shucks I'm only human.

My last step down the stairs
My senses heishtened, the warm chill envading my legs,
Causing goosebumps to rise, along with my left brow.
"Am I not to be ignorant? Why do I feel the wind? " my mind searched
My ears picked with a cry from a girl.
But this was no ordinary cry.

A cry of happiness when a daughter sees her father
A cry of contentness of an adventure between a father and daughter.

My ignorance shattered after that.
There are fathers that stay and become the greatest of parents
They need appreciation too.
Because a father daughter bond is just as important as a mother daughter one.
Let's appreciate dads too
Tatiana Mar 2013
Drop
like a stone
down into the water
and sink into the darkness
slowly,
calmly.

Right,
a direction you turn,
or a decision you make,
that is true to you,
instinctual,
creative.

Now,
fall apart,
into little puzzle pieces,
that you can't solve,
confused,
misused.

Or,
you can do,
something more brilliant,
than anyone before,
try,
again.

Rise,
like a phoenix,
from the ashes,
and spread your fire,
burning,
passionate.

Up,
into the sky,
rest on the clouds,
with cool contentness,
foolishly,
lazily.

To,
all your friends,
let them hear you,
cry out,
with love,
and acceptance.

The,
birds will fly,
around you,
encompassing you with,
comfort,
strength.

Challenge,
yourself everyday,
don't back down from adversity,
don't get walked on,
because you are strong,
tremendous,
amazing.
Read the first line of each stanza, it reads
"Drop Right Now Or Rise Up To The Challenge"
....
This is kind of a splash of thoughts.
sexsea Mar 2015
1am
lost deep in only the 1am thoughts that echo entirely filling every dream and fantasy I long to feel within these dark hours of the night. my mind a crowded hall with no escape, for every turn is a dangerous bump into unfamiliar evil faces. a downtroddened smile to only remind me of deep desires that shall never perish nor be obtained but only be fulfilled to reach a level of contentness. for in these 1am thoughts not all is evil but the side of life that never haunts also never demands to be felt as I am only content. but maybe one day these 1am thoughts will demand to feel the dainty sense of happiness that I will soon learn does not bloom from only you.
Jessica Woodward Dec 2010
Stuck in this fun-loving bubble-rut
No reason to escape but...
Wear and tear upon body and mind
Yet the more I intake the more that I find
A certain contentness.
Lack of stress.
Away from life's more nonchalent routines
Which are less than suitable for teens..
But soon twenty will creep upon me
And I always want to be this free
To exercise my own creativity
And to be who I want to be.
Jazzelle Monae Aug 2016
To love is so much more
Than this idea of perfect contentness
Love is vulnerability
It is giving someone the key
To your precious dark world
It is making room
In the empty part
Of a special heart
That opens only on occasion
Love is letting go of the strings
To your favorite marionette.
No longer the puppet master
Of your emotions
With the warmth and joy
Comes the wretched feeling of it being gone
And yet, we dip ourselves into the deep
Abyss of it anyways.
2016 © Jazzelle Monae
Elanaa Jul 2013
Anywhere i go You're never far
The pain is evident in every scar
Produce the tears that sing me to sleep
The somber melody is soothing to the disease

My heart quickly beats
Ana comes closer in defeating me
Fighting  me to gain control
Doesnt take much time before i am in overload

Shes creeping me
All day and night
She does not dare to lose a fight
Takes the wheel right from my hands
She will not go down with a fight
A daily struggle for the reigns of sanity
Without her im without a shadow
My shadow
Ana is my shadow

She promises me perfection and  contentness
Too bad she leaves me a frail mess
Shes getting more and more control of my brain
Its getting harder and harder to stay sane

So tell me
How does it feel to be sane?
Apostrophe's Mar 2018
My depiction of fiction
fits the description
uplifted from my own benedictions
been a ****,
been addicted
bend and lift
benefited
my  back... only  difference
Is I had somebody watching mine
To make up for what I lack and
what I thought I know
By the fact I've brought you thought provok-
ing moments
Hold it
Mold it
Don't let go it's
life in motion
Nice to know that
most components
Grow and hold it's
value
The struggle's golden
Hold up swollen fists
To no avail you
Never give up
Never live up to
other's expectations
Know your limits
Set the boundary
Allowing for a more peaceful, sound sleep
Cuz at the end of the day
We all lay
Our head upon that pillow
And when contentness sets in
Voids...we fill those
weep like willows
Weak but still chose
To instill those
Values in our kinfolk
Wandisa Zwane Jun 2015
Lately I’ve been sinking into an infinite abyss of perspective reflection
I’m afraid I will never be able to trust myself
I’m afraid I will never become enlightened and that my conscious will sink deeper into my subconscious
I’m scared witless that I will-become a chain smoker , one day
I’m afraid that one day I’ll die lonely
I’m terrified of being patronised
I’m fearful of chronic nightmares
I’m panicky of being criticised
I’m afraid I’ll die a pessimist
And I’m scared of anxiety
Its all beginning to make sense now ,
I’m afraid of getting warped into societies superficiality
I’m afraid of growing into an apathetic and sadist human being
I’m horrified of getting ****** into humanities conformity and contentness
I’m horror-struck by the fact that this youth is not eternal
The public can never know I wrote this.
- Wanda
Oh
Oh, I'm looking for light,
In this godless night,

I'm losing my spark,
And the apathy feels great.

With each uneven beat of my heart,
I close my eyes, and its not nearly as dark...

As the life we surround ourselves with,
Afraid of death and the afterlife.

It is called crazy, crazy, to wish it was over.
They call it depression and submission.

I call it rationalism!
What does this world have to offer you?

You take of it what you will,
But to me it lends only bills!

And not of the meaningless thing we call money,
No ******* up currency, no trust we bind ourselves by.

Nay the cruelty of a loveless life, of emotions drained,
Hopes dashed, family cruelly washed down winter's basin.

What do we look forward to in life?
Oh, I wonder, and wander. I am lost.

But to me I am found. I know who I am.
I am the darkness, at 2 am which causes me to write.
I am the boogeyman, the hidden fright.
The fear which holds you from kissing her,
The quiver you try to hide under, your receding grin,
I am the line by which darkness exudes,
I am evil and the joy infused,
I am the happiness of void, the contentness of lust.
I am the sin and the sinner, the judge and the judged.
And I am without care or worry. I am only waiting to be taken.
Oh. Oh indeed.
taylor styles Feb 2019
i always thought that when i was in love i would write beautiful poems
about how i feel
and how beautiful you are to me,
but my mind draws blank with contentness.

no words can fathom what i feel.
i could learn a thousand languages and not a single one could i articulate what my heart holds.
i might delete this??? idk
To conflate
being in love
With
being happy

The latter so
Often eludes me
But I fall in love
Almost every week

Which is greater?
The love
Or
The joy?

Contentness?
Or
Companionship?

Normally
The two muses
Make residence
At the same time

And they leave me
In the same way

I'm either happy
And in love
Or depressed
And lonely

So, yes, it's easy
To conflate the two, yet
I fall in love with you
All the more
Written 6/21/18
usagi Mar 2018
I sat by the rocks on top of the cliff over the beach that was conveniently  placed behind my school.
Or rather my school conveniently placed in front of it.
I felt alone as I sifted through my notes and waited for him to come. I hoped he would come but I did not know if he would. I was used to expecting the worst, and I convinced myself this time would be no different.

Beyond the overhang of the cliff I sat, there was a man fishing, wearing a bright pink hat and yellow shoes. He stood on a rock all alone as he intricately moved his hands along  his fishing line. I could not make out the movements but I could tell he was well rehearsed.

I kept peaking over my shoulder to see if I would see him coming to join me but he was no where in sight. As I sat there watching the fisherman, I realized I was not at all alone. A contentness  fell over me as I realized that I was never really alone. Or perhaps that being alone wasn't really being alone when you can make peace with it.

In that moment I realized what I had always realized but was never able to make peace with:
We would probably wander much of our lives alone but we ultimately get to chose if we want to be lonely or not.
Some days I will feel lonely, and other days I'd find my fisherman in the distance to find comfort in.
Anne Faye Sep 2015
Don't you just feel like a god?
when you walk as if she was nothing
a tad speck if love was a lie to you
you decided to use the word loosely
got to her heart from a slithering tongue
letting demons ignite  you crawled in the dark
love or lust, she feels one and you feel the other
leaving her with words of hopefulness
caring about nothing but egos
her in her contentness asleep
creeping out the door with ease
its's clear you've done this before
she cries when she wakes up and sees
the man who said he loved her
gone as if just a dream
how does he feel?
he feels like a god.
lucifer felt the same
and he was beautiful
Jose Gonzalez Sep 2019
©J.GonzalezJr 7/2019

Into the brisk, cold night I ventured home,
leaving joyous occasion of friends and delights.
Filled on laughter, food, and warming spirits,
I tucked into my coat and gloves to journey home.
Sky filled by celestial stars and fullest moon,
the olden road leading me to needed slumber.
Moving forward still filled in mood of merriments,
as sounds of fading friends grow weaker by every step.
The glow of the home's lit fireplace dim's,
as shadows cast from moon and trees ahead.
A late hour of night to be in woods alone,
a long way to be made with the greatest of haste.

The cold chill of wind brushes my face firmly,
as if Death's hand caressing me to follow.
Shivers run throughout to my spine in waves,
feeling unnatural though it is just the very.
Dried leaves rustling past feet keeping to pace me,
such unnerving nuisance to my ears and senses.
The scraping and knocks of outstrecthed tree limbs,
as if decrepit fingers begging up to the moon.
Swaying within gusts like hideous worshipers,
crowding in as if to make me believe in their ways.
Making quickened pace to surpass this horrid place,
not giving way to thoughts of such *******.

Remembering the evening just had of friends,
filling my mind with contentness to travel on.
Laughing aloud to a story of great humor told,
broken by noise in return from amongst the trees!
Frozen within my steps to listen closer,
scanning darkness and behind for something familiar.
Met with nothing but silence and nature in view and hearing,
just to tuck deeper into my coverings to resume leave.
Too much drink of spirits is the reason i give to self,
the need to bed from the festive eve of friends.
Perhaps to hum a tune we did sing to ease me,
yeta laughter pierces the air as if upon a cue.

Turned to seek if joker is in close hidden follow,
perhaps a friend having left soon after my departure.
"where do you hide old friend?" to the dark is called,
yet nothing to greet back in return.
"If a foe or to do harm upon me I am ready!"
but trees and leaves give only reponse.
I return with fear to now quickened walk home,
heart beating in chest with more sounding.
My hands clamming, rubbing in moistening glove,
feet stamping to hardened ground below.
Sweat forming all about head and neck in irritation,
as the feel of garments sticking, tightening to body.

Every few moments I turn looking behind,
expectations to see who trails me in eerie follow.
Laughter echoes from beyond range of sighting,
stirring deepened fears, surfacing from deep within.
Laughter gains it's closeness by every moment,
as my feet slam to gain distance away.
Wind beats against me in cold resistance,
defiant to my attempt to succeed to hurry.
Laughter has become great and loud in trailing,
like a witch's cackle filling the air around from beyond.
It gains to the woods all about me and fierce,
as to taunting and make mockery of my speed.

Shadows of decrepit limbs cast forth on the road,
taunting in meaining to grasp at my soul!
The road ahead has many turns to my safety,
I am knowing the forest as I lived here so long.
Perhaps I am to lose my tracker in short,
by cutting time to where I need in being!
Laughter falls upon me in maddened form,
if to be ready to pounce upon me with unearthly hands!
"I know the woods better than it", I pant aloud,
"this will be where I am to flee free", gasping to reassure me!
Straight off to woods from hardened road i panic,
laughter in closest follows of lay's voice most macabre.

Breath shortening from exerted strides over rocks,
chest pounding, filling body and legs of pain.
Lady of laughter grows closest yet,
as to revel in my frightful state.
No longer do i care of horrid, darkened place,
refuge home is the answer to my torment.
The voice calls my surname aloud in evil tone,
"Ingleton" then gives way to returning laugh!
Pain most intense fills my chest in squeezing manner,
limbs weakening with every strain i can give!
In very distance sight is a glow of my home,
This my final push to my haven in waiting!

Upon my neck a whipser I did hear,
"Henry", came the voice in fullest terror.
Legs gave way to buckling and tumble down rocky knoll,
sudden ringing of head,as stopped by large stone!
Vision blurred and senses be ******,
luck seems to be passed to only misfortune!
Vision clears well enough to see stone i had hit,
a very long ago hidden secret I had made.
A crime before me of many years gone and very night,
the ****** of wife, tonight of that very time I commited.
Clenching my chest of life being wrenched within,
a voice too familiar whispers as my life my departs away.

Something long forgotten, just brushed aside i had done,
a truth covered by heinous acts of my own doing.
A ****** most foul, with my hands at place of rest,
my fate forced by karma as to see what has been done.
I turn from stone on ground sensing my stalker behind,
I am spoken to by her, with voice of ethereal plane.
The sight of once living wife, not as I knew from living,
now of vengeful specter, here to bring my own end.
All life left within me, begins to flee in the horror that stands,
The night gives to little light fading, as body begins to cease.
"Did you forget of darling wife Laura Ingleton?" is last I hear,
her vengence has come for me, to bring me to where i deserve!
Her final laugh to be had and echo in these woods,
as I, there in dying, just being yards from home.
Miley Cyrus Jan 2015
How
Why am I so angry I ask ?
When did I become so furious with the world?
** made me this way...The world or I
I ask I ask I ask....
I've been asking for several years...
Still no answer
I've asked and I've tried
Tons of **** to call attention to myself
I dressed up for people
I tried to be ****** popular
I tried the don't care I'm Kylie Jenner thing
All of those felt right temporarily...then gone
Then on the search again...
My last resort is faith
Believing that God will come through
Look at Demi lavato
..all the miracles that he gave to people
And all the blessings I have
He will come through for me...
But on time's time...
It's a journey
I gotta learn ****
To move forward
And I know where I am right now isn't right
I can't live for other people like it's ok
I can't live I'm fear...
Right now I'm a scared little girl
Scared as ****
Hiding behind a facade
But starting tonight I'm throwing that **** facade in the garbage
There is nothing in this world that will make me happy
No clothing
No celebrity
No feeling
Nobody
On the outside
But the only thing is
Contentness...
Life for me
Is not a lot of things....
But it's about what's on the inside
Like today I scrolled on Instagram
I saw miley cyrus of coarse and one of her back up dancers
And her back up dancer is short a ****** and I thought to myself how did she find the light....
How is she smiling
And wearing things that the world doesn't approve of
And doing what she wants
Truly..
Not out of rebellion or selfishness
How the ****...
Does one do that I ask....
How?
So many nights lying awake in bed, in my home but I am not even there.

I am always someplace else by myself, away from life's realities.

Respecting the quiet moments and writing down the thoughts inside my head.

That's happiness,
that's contentness for me.

No need for millions of dollars.
No need for unnecessary status symbol cars.
No need for a mansion to lay my head and call home.

What would be greater is if I could be who I am.

All I want from life is peace and quiet.
Alone time.
I adore being alone.
It's the only time I can be me.

Just give me my mind and a writing instrument.
That's when I am always perfectly fine.

I'm a hard working, very simple unmaterialistic man that appreciates simple things like peace and quiet and alone time.

Give me those two things and you can keep everything else.
The only person that can make you happy is you.

I've known that my entire life.
So, I don't like when I ignore myself.

Tick tock tick tock tick tock and then guess what?

It's all over.

Either wantingly or unwillingly, it ends.

Now you see it, now you don't.

It's like whack a mole.
One day you pop up out of bed and the next you don't.

Every choice that you make in this life is like russian roulette.

Your next choice could be your last.

So at least, choose to be you whether others like you or not.
Afford others the opportunity to remember you for whom you really are, good or bad.

I do this with my writing.
If I acted it out?
I'm a multi century dormant volcano.
I'm a vigorously shaken soda so,
let's just not go there.


So now anyway, it's time to rise up out of bed and go out into this strange world filled with strange people and be filled with anxiety and unhappiness.
[And yeah, I know that you think that I am the strange one and that's okay]

It is time to go mingle with others that do not understand you,
and strangers that you do not trust, even a little.

And let me tell you, wearing a half assed grin is quite tiresome and exhausting around others.

But alas, I'll just go through the motions until I get back home where I can happily be me once again.
I am changing.
But the idea of me that I want to put out into the world isn’t.
Who I want to be and the parts of myself that I don’t like are conflicting.
I stand firm on foundations that feel crumbly at the fact my morals feel proud.
I worry that I think too much about what others think.
Other times I worry I don’t think enough about that at all.
I’m scared that if I’m honest about how I feel I’ll be met with judgement.
For no real reason, other than what I feel is anxiety.
My feelings have no solid ground, so of course they are easy to judge.
Does that really mean that they are judging me though?
By that logic, are my morals really mine or just my anxieties of what people will think?
The few things I used to take pride in being, I might not be anymore.
So who am I?
Will the people who loved me then, love me now?
Anxiety is a feral hungry beast.
Pacing and pattering through my veins.
Thumping and crashing in my heart like a misplaced 808.
“I’m really not an anxious person.”
Shakily fall from between my lips, reluctantly.
As I realise, I’m anxious to even admit that im anxious.
Am I supposed to have life figured out in my almost mid twenties?
Probably not.
Do I feel like I should have a vague sense of direction about it?
Maybe.
Although I’m battling with the idea that no one ever really knows what they want to do and people just get stuck.
So maybe I’m the lucky free thinker.
Or maybe I’m the delusional directionless unemployed rambler that people avoid at pubs.
Good job I avoid pubs.
I thought I was a powerful, political, before my time, feminist.
Who was just “too awake for the world before me”.
Miserable because my eyes are open too wide, that sort of thing.
Identifying as a realist.
But maybe, just maybe, I’m just a miserable old *******.
Creaky kneed, bleak thoughted.
I never used to think that much.
Well I did, I just never categorised myself as an overthinker.
I was wrong.
I just overthought about irrelevant things, out of my control.
Unimportant to spiral over.
Now that I and the people I love are centre to my anxious internal ramblings, i realise just how wrong.
I thought growing up would entail control of your mind.
Coping mechanisms.
Maybe growing up is realising coping is just getting on with it.
That prospect has never sat right with me.
“Queen of holding on to things” my mother often refers to me as.
Hoping to god I’ll learn to one day “park”, as she would say, just one of the things that make me miserable.
On any of the number of days I choose to let it pop back up.
Which would feel like everyday.
If you catch me on a “everything is bothering me day” I’d tell you I’m playing whack a mole with everything bad that’s ever happened in my life.
And although I know how it goes, I lose every time.
Maybe that’s because I’m so dedicated to my hobby.
Not a healthy one, I have none of those.
I’m referring to my insane ability to play basketball with chucking my feelings into my **** it bucket.
Until of course I realise that the **** it bucket isn’t looking so **** it anymore.
When you’ve felt so much for so long does contentness ever feel less like emptiness?
Does the peace ever get quieter?
Do the problems get realer or do we just stop creating them?
The questions I’d have asked myself a decade ago take a soul-wrenchingly, starkly, different tone.
So am I ungrateful?
Am I ungrateful that my biggest problem is anxiety?
My biggest problem is fake problems.
How 13 year old me would laugh in my face and spit venom with the tone.
I went through so much to get to where I am now.
To feel like I cheated?
Like I somehow don’t deserve it?
Not to say I earned it, but why would I deserve it less than anyone else?
I am aware.
I always have been.
I see the flaws in my thinking
The excruciatingly humane flaws in my self.
People fault me on seeing every one of their flaws, and pointing it out.
But how do I stop thinking them?
“Being aware is the first step.”
Yes.
Everyone finishes there.
Is there a second step?
Me and a few other million people are wondering.
Nothing else in life is like that.
You’re given an equation.
It’s explained, you get an answer.
It’s right, or it’s wrong.
Mentally we are left exhausting all the options.
Flaw after flaw, fault after fault, lapse after lapse.
For what?
No closer to answers just an opportunity to do it wrong differently next time.
Exhausted from thinking
The thoughts are chaotic like 5 point round abouts.
I am terrified to verbalise them.
I don’t know what I want.
Being heard isn’t enough anymore.
I don’t want solutions.
What are we left with?
Nothing practical.
Just a wish and a dream of one day feeling differently.
Being content with being content.
Accepting serenity as peace, not a moment to be ruined.
There is a paradise out there, I just haven’t met her and neither has anyone I know.
Does that make me sound like a believer?
Like actualisation is tiered with heaven?
As I get older, the more I realise that it just might be exactly that, for atheists.
Try as you might, I don’t believe it’s possible in life.
I’m upset that in my realism and internalised honesty, that I forced my brain to block out so much of my life.
I focused on the negative things and considered myself to be being true to history and my past.
Remembering is important.
Yes.
I wish I remembered the name of my favourite song on the dance mat.
Not how upset I was when I found out it had been thrown away.
I wish instead of getting so hung up on how people left, why people left or how terrible they are for leaving, that I remembered how good it was to know them.
I’m worried that my brain is not who I want it to be.
I’m scared that everything I hate in this word is an externalisation of everything I hate in myself.
I’m anxious that all of my darkest thoughts, are the truest testament to who I am as a person.
Your eyes, were like the coast of the sea
I chased after them till I fell on my knee
You were humble, and I fell in love with thee
As I lay on my back, you were all I that I see.

Your lips moved, and my heart skipped a beat
The cherry on top; her sassiness was neat
As you laugh, I tingled to the base of my feet
My body is at peace utop of a green sheet.

Your custard skin, dulled with a bracelet
As you danced to the tunes, I dared to duet
As feelings went, contentness was rarely felt
I unconsciously wondered under my blanket.

How I wish that this dream came true
Or to not awake from such a winter flu.

— The End —