"despondence" poems
Tell me why it seems like the walls are closing in
Tell me why my hopes they're stretched far and thin
Tell me why my dreams still struggle in this fight
Tell me why every time I draw air but it feels so tight.
Tell me why in this turmoil my heart does wallow
Tell me why lifes' lessons by the heapfuls I choke to swallow
Tell me why I'm somewhat free but then again I am not
Tell me why I really do have but I haven't really got.
Tell me why I try to sleep many a restless night
Tell me why I am so afraid of many a fearful fright
Tell me why I still feel the way I have felt before
Tell me why I ask many questions which leaves me broken and sore.
Tell me why so much emotions run amok within me
Tell me why I look yet I do not really see
Tell me why despondence is back; it's here to haunt
Tell me why such uncertainties always beckons to taunt.
Tell me why I want more but I am quite contented
Tell me why I have to accept the path I've very much resented
Tell me why I already know but I still keep on asking
Tell me why it seems like the reasons are in every way lacking.
Tell me why I feel so happy but in fact I am so sad
Tell me why it all seems unfair but I have to be glad
Tell me why I found love in the most unfortunate circumstance
Tell me why to a mournful tune I am stuck in dance.
Tell me why my heart feels engorged but I can't release it all
Tell me why I am so scared but I would still want to fall
Tell me why I feel you close when you're farther than far
Tell me why it seems incredulous that we share the same star.
Tell me why I long to give you more when I can't this instant
Tell me why I can feel better but I seem so resistant
Tell me why sometimes I look up and curse at my luck
Tell me why I refuse to focus on courage that I really should pluck.
Tell me why I lay in bed dreaming of a place far away
Tell me why I find myself moping more and more each day
Tell me why I chose to be naive and in fate I do give trust
Tell me why time and time again it just gets ground to dust.
Tell me why I feel so beaten and weak when I should be strong
Tell me why I am so familiar in a place I don't belong
Tell me why I have to live with a mask on my face
Tell me why I feel like a marionette strung up by lace.
Tell me why I dug deep when these words make me cry
Tell me why the tears still trickle when my eyes are dry
Tell me why I share this when I know you would feel bad
Tell me why I would even spout the words that make you sad.
Tell me why these painful wounds I didn't choose to lick
Tell me why I didn't let them heal but instead I would pick
Tell me why I feel as though I am quite addicted
Tell me why it seems like I enjoy the dark I've inflicted.
Tell me why sometimes I question, the things you see in me
Tell me why you've said it many times but I don't really see
Tell me why I haven't drifted far when I should've a while ago
The reason is you; because you have chosen to love me.
Aug 5, 2014
Aug 5, 2014 at 8:30 PM UTC
*I feel your heart's heavy
and your mind trailing off to places
I'm not allowed to go...*
- Dajena M
My body...
Lays battered under unforgiving weather
I amble forth with unsure
In search of pastures much greener
My face...
Wears my despair
Mirrors wouldn't recognise
Reflecting back a faceless stare
My eyes...
Stung red with tears
Conveying the murmurs from my soul
Clouded by despondence that never clears
My limbs...
Bent awkward with time
Arms hang lifeless; legs sore from bearing
Load of my past of crime
My mind...
Trails in the wake of fallen dreams
Searching for an oasis
Instead finding only brackish streams
My soul...
Holds the weight of an anvil
Still I trudge to the farthest reaches
Through barren lands where all is still
My heart...
Yet beats with rhythm so true
It keeps me alive
It gifts to me...
you...
Jan 8, 2015
Jan 8, 2015 at 9:59 AM UTC
Sun up till sun down
Trapped in a perpetual frown
Moon comes then she goes
Drops free fall from my nose
Waking hours in the daylight
Aimless motions; clumsy, puppet-like
Waking hours in the night
Uncomfortable in my own skin and psych
Sleeplessness be my companion
Restlessness be my actions
Despondence be my demon
Crest fallen be my reason
Frantically sifting through my head
Vertically upright or supine in bed
Compartmentalising might be key
To fend off self inflicted insanity
Desperation hangs overhead; ripe and bruised
Excuses upon excuses ridiculously overused
Furiously typing before my mind curds
Hopes of finding peace in these unspoken words
Sep 16, 2014
Sep 16, 2014 at 10:45 PM UTC
She comes to me every night...
When all is asleep with stars lit yonder.
Comes to me with subtle might
Peeking fiendishly from darkness's cover
Await such time she'd choose to show
Await the chance to finally take.
Ready to pounce like a well tensioned bow
Arrow-like talons, ever honed to stake.
Awake or asleep, she would come without fail.
Creep is her gait; this shadow clad figure.
Always a ***** in my impervious mail.
Claiming her wants with ferocious fervour.
Deemed to be strong, easier to succumb.
Don't fight...don't struggle... Don't call for aid...
Just wait and will yourself numb
She'd come regardless of prayers that's said.
She was here with me last night
In bed, I stared at a being that's faceless...
And my heart wrenched tight.
Gripping and feeding me senseless...
Soon as she came, she left but not before
Siphoning the good and replacing with dread...
Stole was what she did; left me wanting more...
Once deed is done, into the dark she fled.
I know her all too well,
Nocturnal guest that I unknowingly invite
Her intentions to incite, not quell
Send me spiralling through emotional blight.
Day will recede, making room for dark
She'll come; swift and without sound.
She'll arrive majestic; inflicting her mark
I'll wait for her, ready and unbound.
Looking forward to her return
This silent foe whom I find familiar.
With every touch I cringe and burn
Oh secret friend whom I'm beginning to savour...
She is synonymous with various names
Each would bear the likeness of semblance
Let fly her cloak of not dissimilar aims
Endearingly I call her...,
Despondence...
Oct 3, 2014
Oct 3, 2014 at 12:23 AM UTC
I hide behind a mind engulfed with poisonous secrets I dare not to leave my mouth.
My feet are buried in shackles latched onto them while my skin drips in doubt.
My hands are stitch behind my back with threads of weakness.
My mouth expands while the truth is caged behind my teeth because it’s no one business.
I open my eyes and it flutters more than a bird in fear from a threat.
I lean my head to the side and analyze this disastrous home tormented by time but hasn’t given up yet.
I watched it light on fire.
I’ve seen it dismantled by hurricanes.
I heard the walls and wood creak from the distress.
How can a foundation be so strong after a wave of events?
We all are broken homes at some point of life even if it doesn’t make sense.
Financial crisis, heartbreak, anxiety, school, family, work, depression, racism, we all experience a wave that changes us for the better or for the worst.
Sometimes it becomes so consistent like an epidemic that one can feel curse.
Then we question, “why did I go through this? What did I do to deserve such a traumatic blow to the head?”
And we search for these answers in the same place that hugged us with so much agony and the countless stress it led.
Early nights turn to restless nights in bed because we force reality to sink in our head but it covers our nose and mouth until we faint in a pool of insecurity and beg for these feelings to dead.
Make it stop,
I’m drowning.
The sky turns to a bruised face and wakes up the roots with its tears.
I feel so connected as the drops fall to the floor because it reminds me we all break no matter how much we can bear.
I observe the rain dance on the sturdy house and admire it as the beauty glisten,
I grew a love for this home because it rebuild as much as despondence knocked on the door, it ignored and refused to listen.
It upholds its commitment to itself to never give up.
That no matter how much times it can get rough,
Know that you can survive and pretending your problems don’t exist will never be enough.
-dpk
Aug 21, 2017
Aug 21, 2017 at 3:05 PM UTC
How many more Valentine's
How many more birthdays
How many more New Year's
How many more of tomorrow's rays
How much more strength
How much more perseverance
How much more fortitude
How much more despondence
How many more circles
How many more misleading clues
How many more loops
How many more déjà vus
How much more sadness
How much more to be paid
How much more discomfort
How much more to be laid
How many more questions
How much more time
How many more answers
How much more must I rhyme
How many more roses
How many more seasons
How many more Valentine's
How much more to achieve balance
Feb 14, 2015
Feb 14, 2015 at 1:01 PM UTC
I am not some street cowboy punk
i am a quiet sweet rampant drunk
i play the spoons with the air of a saint
i have a tongue that can swallow paint
sour and acrid, the tone of my voice
i have never left without a choice
punched back sideways
even more today than tomorrow
for your heart i will bed, steal or borrow
Superman don't have ***** on me
don't need no wings now i am free
saving the restless, curing the weak
you can laugh at me when i dance like a freak.
I will kiss you when i drink too much wine
when i am restless and hungry you will be mine
I will do nothing when you are nothing to me
i will drive you crazy with all you can be
no more talkin no more of that ****
i'll hold you apart, break you bit by bit
if you're too polite i'll bite my tongue
i'll whip you and shake you, then i'm done.
carefree to be careless, shareless boy talk
tell me to go and i will surely walk
don't ask me to be kissed or hold my hand
i am not that girl that you left unplanned
i am a midnight demon on ferocious terms
i grasp you and hold you tight and firm.
I am not lost, or fragile or broken bound
i am not looking for someone to make a sound
i am no paige boy scarlet harlot wild child thing
i am not yours, can't you hear your telephone ring?
I am a sordid freak of gigantic endeavours
i will solder your heart regardless of your tremors
i am torturous and painful and weak to the bone
i am the mightiest fallen, can you not see my throne?
i have a **** me, buck me, tie-me-tight gaze
if i look at you slowly, be patient but don't wait
i want everything and all and i want it now
i am no gleaming bronze statue know-all-know-how
i am surely what you ever thought you knew
i am surely what you never thought when i met you
i am free to please anyone at night
i am free to sit and cry by candlelight
alright now, oh baby its all right now
**** me gently and i'll show you how
to be nothing more than anything is something i suppose
but i really can't tell for the state of your clothes
you dress me up slightly more than your vision
i've never met a person with such succint precision
and well here i go, superbly astute and blunt
never did i see such a spectacular *** ****
and well that is really the way that i go
i fly here, there, everywhere i flow
i am not some pretty naieve little thing
i am a mess of entirety with 2 engagement rings
i'm living with despondence and its ******* me off
holy **** batman i hear you cough
come see me, come stay a while
come see me, come see me, and i will **** you in style
Jan 30, 2013
Jan 30, 2013 at 1:41 PM UTC
A thing of beauty is a joy for ever:
Its lovliness increases; it will never
Pass into nothingness; but still will keep
A bower quiet for us, and a sleep
Full of sweet dreams, and health, and quiet breathing.
Therefore, on every morrow, are we wreathing
A flowery band to bind us to the earth,
Spite of despondence, of the inhuman dearth
Of noble natures, of the gloomy days,
Of all the unhealthy and o'er-darkn'd ways
Made for our searching: yes, in spite of all,
Some shape of beauty moves away the pall
From our dark spirits. Such the sun, the moon,
Trees old and young, sprouting a shady boon
For simple sheep; and such are daffodils
With the green world they live in; and clear rills
That for themselves a cooling covert make
'Gainst the hot season; the mid-forest brake,
Rich with a sprinkling of fair musk-rose blooms:
And such too is the grandeur of the dooms
We have imagined for the mighty dead;
An endless fountain of immortal drink,
Pouring unto us from the heaven's brink.
3k
I don't know why
I care.
Maybe sometimes,
it just hurts too much
not to.
Because as much as
I want to throw
caution to the wind and
give a big **** you" to
all those who have betrayed me
something holds me back
and I can't help but
feel.
Shock, mostly.
Anger.
Despondence.
And it's horrible.
It's the
gut-wrenching
heart-crushing
epitome of ****
But it's okay.
Because feeling
is what keeps me
here and
real and
actually
human.
And I have spent so
long trying to be
here and
real and
actually
human
that it is so,
so
worth
every
****
tear.
Jun 21, 2014
Jun 21, 2014 at 9:03 PM UTC
*Is out there on our own lovely streets
In the souls of those the world mistreats
In the roughing waves threatening to wash us all
In the despondence of the **** victim's unanswered call
It's that long journey without a clear destination
It's the desperate cries in the broken heart of every nation
The heartbreak caused with no intention
It's the one without an answer,I mean the question
War is that desperate pregnant teenager attempting abortion
It's the *** slave in a foreign country up for auction
It's the slum child fighting with the bursting river banks
It's in the mind of the soldiers riding tanks
Doing what they can to rise up the ranks
And evade taking more innocent lives in mega chunks
It's the hopeless immigrants drowning on the mediteranean
It's the nuclear threatened Iraqees and Iranians
It's a *** hole forcing the driver to swerve and lose control
It's the tears of the fishermen catching nothing for days in their trawl
It's the worries in that littl'un fearing darkness
The priest's daily prayer,battling temptation, human weakness
War is another name for the famine eating the tribes in the arid north
It's the thought of a refugee mother whose child's got stunted growth
It isn't the opposite but the total absence of peace
It's a robber who loots everything, including bliss
It's a nightmare to the leader stuck in a seat
And the zealous opposition unaware of his inner heat
It's a hustle by the team which can't admit defeat
It's the struggle of an accident victim trying to regain his feet
It's in the believer's hope to see Jesus return tomorrow
Right before the entire globe sinks in ****** sorrow
It's the worries of a father who's spent his entire adult life unemployed
The uncertainty for a recruit in a war zone,just deployed
War is the puzzled gambler pondering suicide when he loses the little he borrows
It's the pastor wondering wether or not to dive in and save the drowning morals
War is that person perturbed, wondering why the hell he was created
War is all the choices you made and regretted
War is a three letter word,with a long meaning
Which some say is the only reason the globe is spinning*
Jun 5, 2015
Jun 5, 2015 at 12:22 PM UTC
The night you died
I held my breath in your honor
or in anger
I can't exactly remember, only
a dropping of the gut, the swollen amalgamation of numb and comprehension and
more confusion than I have ever swallowed whole before
I hope you cursed yourself when you realized what you did
your hand closing is a picture I played a million times in my head
your eyes rolling back is one I tried not to but
every time my eyelids met
I saw yours gasping for air
Your mother, a glass vase splitting on hardwood floor
I can promise you she is still stepping on your pieces
the truth is I know you never meant to cause damage
the breaking is just what happens when so much is left behind
When the rabbi said your name
I thought about laughing, how
you certainly would be at the seriousness of it all
the level of despondence floating
in the room
the oxygen, thick in its lack of,
a density unlike any other
I remembered the time we got high on one of the holiest days of the year
I thought maybe this
is god playing a joke on us
I thought maybe this is
just his sick revenge, an attempt at humor but
there was nothing funny about your leaving
For the first few months
losing you was drowning every night in my sleep
and waking up alive the next morning
friends asked what it's like
to have this gap of almost stretching inside of me
I asked if they had ever accidentally touched something hot
and to recall how it felt when the burn started setting on their skin
Most days I miss you without trying
some days I don't think about you at all
there is a life that is full without your being in it but
it isn't mine to call my own
I am forgetting your laugh like a song whose words I can't remember
Today is your 22nd birthday,
facebook had to tell me
there are no shots being taken and nobody is making a cake
today you would have been another year older
I wish you could have stayed to be it
-from the one who loved you
Sep 7, 2015
Sep 7, 2015 at 9:27 PM UTC
When by my solitary hearth I sit,
And hateful thoughts enwrap my soul in gloom;
When no fair dreams before my "mind's eye" flit,
And the bare heath of life presents no bloom;
Sweet Hope, ethereal balm upon me shed,
And wave thy silver pinions o'er my head!
Whene'er I wander, at the fall of night,
Where woven boughs shut out the moon's bright ray,
Should sad Despondency my musings fright,
And frown, to drive fair Cheerfulness away,
Peep with the moonbeams through the leafy roof,
And keep that fiend Despondence far aloof!
Should Disappointment, parent of Despair,
Strive for her son to seize my careless heart;
When, like a cloud, he sits upon the air,
Preparing on his spell-bound prey to dart:
Chase him away, sweet Hope, with visage bright,
And fright him as the morning frightens night!
Whene'er the fate of those I hold most dear
Tells to my fearful breast a tale of sorrow,
O bright-eyed Hope, my morbidfancy cheer;
Let me awhile thy sweetest comforts borrow:
Thy heaven-born radiance around me shed,
And wave thy silver pinions o'er my head!
Should e'er unhappy love my ***** pain,
From cruel parents, or relentless fair;
O let me think it is not quite in vain
To sigh out sonnets to the midnight air!
Sweet Hope, ethereal balm upon me shed,
And wave thy silver pinions o'er my head!
In the long vista of the years to roll,
Let me not see our country's honour fade:
O let me see our land retain her soul,
Her pride, her freedom; and not freedom's shade.
From thy bright eyes unusual brightness shed---
Beneath thy pinions canopy my head!
Let me not see the patriot's high bequest,
Great Liberty! how great in plain attire!
With the base purple of a court oppress'd,
Bowing her head, and ready to expire:
But let me see thee stoop from heaven on wings
That fill the skies with silver glitterings!
And as, in sparkling majesty, a star
Gilds the bright summit of some gloomy cloud;
Brightening the half veil'd face of heaven afar:
So, when dark thoughts my boding spirit shroud,
Sweet Hope, celestial influence round me shed,
Waving thy silver pinions o'er my head!
1.7k
You watch his tired eyes and matted hair
A paper coffee cup, an unfinished poem
He is inside the trappings of a panoply
Twitching a calloused finger towards discomposure
Watching as what is not there makes itself ever more present
Staring as moth wings of yearning marry the air
Letters scarce and doubt plentiful
Despondence is the new norm
The next day his seat is empty
A stranger takes his place
You watch her tired eyes and matted hair
Jan 6, 2022
Jan 6, 2022 at 9:18 PM UTC
A serene cottage upon a dreary hillside
Where my mind's listless galaxy of neurons
Synapse in the absolute darkness,
Is painted in Victorian hues, cold and haunting.
Dejection rains down from the leeward sky
With nothing harkened save for the ocean's
Stormy roar and a desolate lighthouse,
Beckoning through the fog and memoirs of the past.
The deeper my soul is carved out with sorrow,
The deeper the hollow can be filled with joy.
But alas, I feel nothing of joy but only a void
Left by the dagger of yesterday's darkening tragedies.
I feel the rain soothe my skin and kiss my cheek
Like the sweetest lover on midnight's embrace,
Yet my moth-eaten quilt of memories only seems
Enough to shelter our legs but ne'er our feet.
My heart feels the warmth of an autumn fire,
Kindling in the crisp rain, bleeding beneath
A rose where we burn in the endless torture
Of our own despondence.
I can feel the blood in my veins turning to fire
As I imagine her fingertips unzipping my spine
As though it were full of secrets and mysteries
Unbeknowst to myself...
I can feel the inferno that rages within my aortic arch
Every moment I imagine losing myself within her
Eyes, glimmering like an eclipse over a midnight
Sea...the Sleepless Coventry.
She unlocks my secrets and weaves them in the bouquet
Of tendrils in her hair like ribbons of crimson and light,
Waving in the vehement northerlies with numbing scents
Of argan and spice.
Her body is but a canvas wrapped neatly around a
Paper mache skeleton, the most beautifully tragic
Foundation known to humanity...
She arrives right on the equinox to set fire to my sorrow,
Intoxicating me with her kiss and infecting me with her smile.
And so enters the conflagration of my soul,
An annihilation of light, blackening my coronary
Artery whilst shooting smoke through my cinnamon
Whiskey tainted veins.
'Tis hard to look through such a misconstrued lens
As such, the Vena Cava Kaleidoscope...
Where the flames burn through the galaxy of neurons
Expending the harrowing memories as its fuel.
I can see the magnetic alloy of her Cobalt eyes reflecting
The fire that consumes me from the inside out.
She pulls on me like the moon pulls upon the tide
As she whispers with her soft, enamored sigh.
I burn in my silent knowing, my liquid mind
Awakening in fervor and strange euphoria.
I burn for the Aurora Infinite.
Jul 28, 2015
Jul 28, 2015 at 3:08 PM UTC
The morning I awoke and saw you had gone, my heart sank
At first I felt nothing, but as the realization took over me, despondence ensued
I should have known
I tumbled down the steps alone again
Alone
Again
As if I should have expected it in some new exciting way
I dragged my feet into the kitchen
"You're out of milk"
I looked up. You stood there smiling
Smiling at me as if I were something to smile at
I should be the one smiling
You stayed
Suddenly, I did not feel so alone
May 22, 2013
May 22, 2013 at 9:45 PM UTC
Unread correspondence lies in despondence
Gathering dust on the shelves
Journal subscriptions of countless descriptions
Piled on top of themselves
Confirmations of blood donations
That never will be attended
Leaflets unnumbered, the walls are encumbered
Far more than was ever intended
Postcards from the tropics discussing dull topics
Like “them ****** foreigners” and rain
Parcels were ordered, were barely afforded
Never to be mentioned again
You’ve got something yourself, squeezing onto a shelf
That’s as packed as the Vatican’s coffers
But it’s weeks out of date and you’re several days late
To respond to the business it offers
Dec 1, 2013
Dec 1, 2013 at 4:59 PM UTC
People never realize,
Or recognize,
The touch of a broken soul.
The despondence,
Fear and need,
Skilfully masked beneath.
Pain never shows,
On their poker faces.
How battered they still fight,
Still live.
Dec 15, 2014
Dec 15, 2014 at 11:54 PM UTC
The wrinkled man who shrugged off my laments
Disregarded despondence
Left me lonesome on a freezing night
Waiting for the next northbound
But he's no friend of mine
The lady in blue who
Always knew better
Knew the truths and
She didn't need any **** suggestions
But she's no friend of mine
God watched from his stone steeple
Admired the downward spiral
Like rock 'em sock 'em robots
Eagerly trying to decapitate themselves
But he's no friend of mine
How could I be fooled by poorly constructed word
Let me taste empathy
And to think that I almost durst to think
That I wasn't alone
But they're no friends of mine
The bedsheets ensnare me in a morning haze
gives me a newfound appreciation for my Blank walls and ceiling
I admire them
Illuminated by the slightest amount of light to make them visible
Peering through my blinds like a peeping Tom
Yes, quite a good friend of mine.
Mar 31, 2016
Mar 31, 2016 at 5:27 AM UTC
From space the earth’s veiled nighttime is not glorious violet.
We know because there are pictures.
But eyes shielded by a woman’s hands forbade the man resisting this notion.
What other color is thick, velvety suede, when it can’t be caressed by vision?
What other hue could the universe be in the moment its embodiment withholds it from you?
There were others, surely; in the houses below surrounding the round building’s roof.
But the smell of modest, floral perfume and finger bones perched on top optical nerves makes that thought irrelevant.
He stood with her, having clambered together, before she divided herself from his sight.
They were both aware of ambient, translucent fixtures, but were unnerved by their subtle hum and the prospect of being caught.
As they stood beside the edge with him reaching backward to touch her, what she saw with arms draped around his neck was an alignment of heavenly bodies in the sky, to the blind man conveyed by apt, moistened lips.
Regretfully, he can only imagine now what she must have seen, recalling her warm tongue, slender fingers and the comfort that smooth skin can bring; he’s left wondering.
Where was each dot in its choreographed performance?
He wanted to know how they’d gotten where they’d gotten, and more pressing to him was why.
He was utterly consumed by a frantic urge to put each minute astral feature on a map and chart their course back to that instant!
But mania gradually diverged to sullen despondence, and his payment of devotion for her passion forced their bodies from the sky.
Most nights now, stars go unnoticed. Because they’ll never be the way they were.
Because earth is purple, because air is fabric.
Aug 10, 2010
Aug 10, 2010 at 11:57 PM UTC
*I would go through the hurt again
if it meant having you back in my life
I would still believe your beautiful words
even after I have learnt that none of them were true
I would still smile at how perfectly you constructed them
well aware that the joy was just a thing of the moment
because that short spell of joy was like an eternity to my soul.*
**I would use the same road whence our
encounter happened,
I would... I would still ask you out
without a single doubt**
*I would, not because I enjoy pain
not because I pleasure in my despondence
not because I prefer the past to the future
No,
It's because you lit a flame in me
that even after you extinguished our passion
still shines bright... you made me believe in myself
you gave me a friend and made me feel safe
you gave me a whole new dimension
to live my life, the only downside being
you are not here to share in the glory
of my self-discovery.*
Sep 17, 2016
Sep 17, 2016 at 6:09 AM UTC
slight music
quite instrumentals slither through the space
now an ethereal silence and a curled, gnarled hand rest at the table
weather-worn pockmarked face twitch
a common occurrence
a scene worthy of a masterful painter
the air sighs, not in sound but in feeling
it is demure, languid,
a seamless bond of hunched figure and wispy breaths
a heart feels light and hollow with pulsating winds surrounding it
a man's hide tingles, prickles
pores gently widen in anticipation
a boxed room
a shackle room
dark, yet for the dim lantern
and a speckling of pinpoints in ever shifting pupils
patterns shift with tightening skin, hackles raised
billowing smoke against snarling and jolting
our West is not kind
a child stumbles with its chittering and chattering, back into its hole
an equalizer delicately rocks upon the floor
hot in its despondence and billowing smoke barrel
the metal becomes cold, uncaring; what despair was impacted upon it has left, as is the same with all objects subject to human emotion
Old blood sleeps in the shackled room
with chattering mumbling children in their holes
life is but glorious process, while we all wish for results
how deplorable
Apr 3, 2010
Apr 3, 2010 at 4:16 PM UTC
Childhood dreams and visions
Adult realities and decisions
Hope and confidence
Despair and despondence
What was it
That turned a girl with the lightness of butterfly wings
Into a woman with a heart too full of heavy things
Was is bad choices
A head with too many voices
A whisper to God
The silence that echoed on
An endless leash to the past
Forever looking back
Unable to forgive
The life that she chose to live
Aug 31, 2012
Aug 31, 2012 at 6:48 PM UTC
The silence is too loud-
the background noise is making my ears ring.
I don’t know how much longer I can tune it out.
I don’t know how much longer
I can control my mouth
from wandering away on your forehead
and your cheeks
and your collar bones.
I’m sorry if I end up picking you dry,
I just have a lust
for love that seems
to be perpetually unsatisfied.
It cannot be denied I am a fiend,
but to tell you what you do not know
would destroy my pride and
most likely cause your retreat.
How do we go about telling them how we met?
Am I just a bet?
Or just the best that you could get.
I can't help but be cynical towards your approach and
you unfortunately
meet the status quo.
The more I get to know you
the more apparent it becomes
I’ll never be able to control you;
nor will I want to.
My freedom is contingent on yours
as well and it may leave us
in a well
but then we will
finally be alone
and forced to talk and
what if you choose to break it off?
Well then off I go like I had planned for you
the whole time,
zip away on a plane like
I am riding white lines through
white winter skies.
When your hands are on the
insides of my thighs
I can only adjust in passive-
aggressive consent
that could easily
be misinterpreted-
either way.
Don’t let my terrible,
smooth,
icy skin
be the only reason you stay.
I am a hypocrite at best-
hand up my dress and
you biting my lips
like you know I like.
Is this what it’s like to be a grown up?
They say always a bridesmaid,
Well for me?
it’s always the couch.
Never graduating to the ascent
required
to tumble onto the pocketed recesses
of the spare mattress.
I often wonder if
I am simply
The World's Best Unpaid Actress.
C.e.M. 11.22.14
Nov 24, 2014
Nov 24, 2014 at 9:53 PM UTC
Tell me, how do I drown my sorrows?
It is riding on a huge tidal waves,
and it brought along tsunami and hurricane.
Tell me, how do I chase my sadness away?
It screams into me, agonizing over every part of my memory,
and it haunts and possess me on every change it gets.
Tell me, please tell me how do I stop these sentiments?
It overcomes all of my emotions, now I feel numb
and it causes me to doubt each of my happiness, telling me they never existed in the first place.
Tell me, tell me how do I kick away this despondence,
how do I stop my negativity?
how do I stop questioning my positivity
how do I stop these mad screaming thoughts in my mind!?
Tell me,
but I can't even convey these messages to you.
Nov 8, 2017
Nov 8, 2017 at 1:01 PM UTC