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As I stand before the mountain of confidence called hope, I see a clear path up, not too steep, not too straight, but this path is embodied with rewards to the top.

At the top, there is a magnificent tree made of gold, silver leaves and Copper roots. Hope mountain held a perfect prize awaiting me, a Tree called Faith.
This sight to behold was everything I wanted, everything before me was so clear, but at the bottom where I was, there was a River.

This River was called Shame.
This river was filthy, the water was calm where I was, but looking downstream I could see the rapids of rage, the ripples of conditioning before the raging rapids were inviting.

The dreary stonewalling fortification on the banks allowed no light through, downstream was scary and looked impossible, why would I go that way? why even look?
I looked upstream and saw a blinding light, what could this be? I was so curious, so I waited, a true gentleman always waits.

Two days later the light took shape, as it came closer I could finally see, I could see a lifeboat with a caring nurturing beautiful woman.

As this beautiful woman came closer, I could see the river was being supplied by this woman, I could see she was the source.

The river of Shame was being fed by this woman, this filth in front of me was coming from her, but the beauty was something I've never seen, this beauty had me curious.

This beauty made me forget of the supply to the river.
  What I saw wasn't real all the sudden, what I believed was now real.
She came close enough for my heart to be heard, since she had no heart she was envious, she hated what others admired.

She wanted my wholesome heart, so she used her falsehood love bombing to create one, dreamingly admiring the mountain, we were planning different paths right then.
As I stared at the golden Tree of Faith glowing upon Hope mountain, I didn't notice the river was rising, as the numbing waters were rising it covered my feet, I didn't notice she also took a piece of my heart to claim as her own.

She used toxic gas and light to create a projection that this heart was hers to give back to me.

I didn't know any better so I accepted this ambient abused heart, this unfelt abuse gave me amnesia, this hidden poison of my cognitive dissonance gave her all of me.

Since she had nothing and that's what she craves, I had everything so she wanted to enslave.
I forget about the mountain with the tree even being there. I forgot I was here.

Her lifeboat was awkward, it was shaky,
it has imperfections, it has holes,
   her lifeboat is sinking,
     her heart is missing.
my knightly kind hearted empathy,
   my buffering and nurturing sympathy         pick this beautiful woman up
      I pick this gem up because of her idealization of me.
I can clean this insidious gem because she makes me believe, but through the veil I cannot see.
I throw her over my shoulder to carry all her weight, it's hard to move, hard to breathe, building a new boat was extremely hard, carrying her pain was extremely hard.

Everyone thought it was impossible to do it, my shear will power to commit ****** one foot in front of the other, I just didn't know that going downstream was impossible.

What about the mountain?

I couldn't remember from the amnesia, the dark night blinded my sight of the mountain, the drug in me was you and it consumed, i fell in love with misery and misery loves it's companies.

I stared the snake behind the veil in the eyes, standing tall on her pedastool made of spackle it breaks, I fall onto piercing confusion, I pull out shrapnel's of dissolution, I'm covered in her blood of invalidation.

I'm already floating in the boat with her, this wasn't my plan, this wasn't my reality.
I gaze upon this woman, sun shining behind her, no clouds in the sky.
floating downstream she tells me it's faster, that we'll end up behind the mountain higher.

I'm not worried now, I'm now contempt with shame.
I already forgot reality, I already forgot i'm going downstream, I forgot the searing pain, I forgot what I believe.

I'm relaxed, I'm tired, I'm still happy in love with this spellbound misery.

As we drift slowly through the stonewalls, no light shines through, I ask her for assurance, it's getting dark, I'm getting scared.

That's when the veil comes off, that's when the unnatural beauty grows quiet, that's when my voice screams silently within these stone walls.

This isn't her, this isn't real,
I know there's love I can feel, that was our bond, that was our deal, not to steal.

I fall over board and the water is cold, there's leaches, the debris is so random, the shameful water is moving faster, the all consuming cold confusion, random gaslighting and triangulations moving in around me faster.

I immediately can't bear it. My heart pulsates hard, my mind misfires my flight mode, i cannot intake the overbearingly unowned toxic Shame, her coldness activated my fawn mode, I froze, I start to doze.

luckily she had my leg, luckily she knew excessive admiration CPR, just as my body went limp in the agonizing River of Shame, she pulls me out. luckily she got me just in time, luckily she saved my life.

I awoke away from the stonewalls, it's sunny and safe again, we're together through impossible odds, we built this boat and she saved my life.

The abuse amnesia made me forget, the cognitive dissonance was real, I am not.

The mountain was now farther away, I was worried, I grew fearful, what I wanted looked farther away, that's when everything became gloomy, my goal was no longer there, but she didn't care, she knew where the river went, I believed her, I still do.

The ambient abuse made me anxious, the atmosphere was maddening of fear, it carried anxiety, I couldn't see it, but I was breathing it in.

Her eyes were so incapacitating, her heart disorienting, her soul captivating, she had a better plan, for us to press on and build another boat, to add another life, to believe in her, to not stare at the knife.

We build another boat, were out of the shame waters finally, she's helping me, were soon to be a real family, but the only thing real here was me.

Everything is better on the land, were dry, it's sunny, it's better to feel the nirvanic sand. It's here we bring our new seed, to be sprouted downstream.

I now believe in this new mountain downstream, I don't even remember the mountain I seen, were pressing on downstream past a levy, were now in the River of Grief, we're off to the end of make believe.

This river is really turbulent with rapids of devaluation, the splashes make me irrelevant, the dinigrating actions around make me small, I feel lost and confused, nothing makes sense anymore at all.

At the mouth of the River of Grief it opens up into a valley. She jumped onto a rock of vanity and pushed the tree of disloyalty upon the boat.

This throws me out head first, but luckily I have our seed safe and sound, luckily I learned how to drown.

I turn around falling and see her at the top staring down, she smirked and throws enormously heavy anvils of bereavement to make me fall harder, to keep me down longer.

Evil is real, but only if you believe, I crave the flattery of illusionary love, I still had amnesia, I love misery, the feeling reminds me I can feel, I love my slow death so I say I'll find you, I have the seed, I'll wait for you.

As I fall the thorns of numbing premeditation pierce, the pain is searing, as I fall i'm locked on her, my falsehood of love is still enduring, I don't feel the discard, I ignore the distaste.

I land in a field of hopium still protecting the seed, my amnesia is now worse, I can't remember her smirk, I can't remember the weighted anvils of bereavement, I can't remember the tree of disloyalty, I still can't remember the mountain.

My movement is heavy like concrete, my heart sits down at my feet, my mind is nowhere to be found, my spirit is fading on this ground.

I gather everyone from a nearby village to find her, it's impossible, they can't see her, she never existed, my amnesia was now delusional, the hopium mixed realities, nothing was real, there was nothing I could truly feel because everything was wrong, but I believe misery needs me and I yearned.

I say she's at the top, we have to throw her a rope,
they say it won't reach what isn't there,
I say we need a ladder to throw the rope, they say the ladder isn't safe that high.
  
I say everyone can hold the ladder while I climb perilously to the top, they say it will never work, but since they can see me, since they see a part of me is still real, everyone holds the ladder for me.
      
While I acend with my broken dignity, I acend with a fatigued heart, I acend to find what I believe, no matter how hard I try, I will be taking my destined decent.

The top of the ladder is shaky, I spent forever getting there, it's scary, the heights bring great fear over me, more than I've ever felt, but my knighthood makes me overcome anything.

I suppress, the seed is safe down below, I'm here to impress, I can see her now, only much less.

Her snake skin is peeling, the sun scorched blistering skin shows immense pain, witnessing this releases empathy, the caring knighthood in me naturally wanted to save her again.

So I wrap what's left of my discarded soul upon my broken fatigued heart and I use my trauma bonded mind as bait.

I throw her the rope,
she catches the rope,
I tell her to tie off the rope,
she ties a noose with the rope,
her neck is now wrapped with this rope.

If she falls I can't stop the tightening of the rope, if she falls I already know I'll jump for her and release from her neck this rope.

We jump together and I release the rope around her neck, I see the ground coming fast, but I love this snake, I'll die for this snake because I believe, false beauty inside is all I see.

I grab her and turn her away from the rushing ground, I fell once, I can take the fall again.

She is already hurt, immense pain, she will not feel no more pain, because I'm not hurting for I'm with misery again, I believe I can take all the pain for her, the hopium was numbing everything I consumed.

I awoke to a distressed angel, flawed personality, beautiful nightmare, mirroring the devil, but what I saw was a veil over the snake eyes, what I saw was what I believed before.

What I had wasn't real, who I am is no longer there, for I had ambience amnesia, nothing around me fit, nothing around me was grounded, nothing around me was divine.

The eyes that gazed upon me were captivating, spriling, time froze and only she was moving, the feeling was there, a drug within me, the drug was her and I longed for the misery, I yearned for the pain to remember what was real, I needed the intermittent reinforcement, I wanted my all bets in investment back and I risked a short sale.

We faded into the black, into a new boat, she made this boat, she had plugs in  holes of the boat I couldn't see, I believed it was perfect, I didn't know what awaited was a life long anguish.

I still didn't know what was downstream is impossible, I didn't know this new River of Anguish has piranhas of triangulation, I didn't know the rapids were of oppression, I didn't know the rocks causing these rapids she already put in place, I didn't know it was so black around me in this place, I didn't know my seed would become two, I didn't know I would have to choose.

I didn't know true love was in front of me in my hands and not behind the veil, I thought it was her, all the villagers knew, but as I drew closer to the snake the darkness only grew and the seeds too.

The feeling of my lingering mortality reverberates, she built me a coffin and chained it to my ankles, with this immense weight, I carry it with me just in case.

We floated very fast down this River of Anguish, everything seemed fine to all others including me, the darkened skies covered the evil, the cold waters made my body numb, the seeds were held up high to be be safe from the tormenting waters.

As I held them up high, I didn't realize she was still holding the schraded butcher knife in the water, I didn't believe she would hurt me, I didn't conceive the possibility that knife I didn't see was there all along for me.

The waters of Anguish smothered me, the triangulating piranhas slowly nibbled on my feet in the water, the rapids of oppression kept me gazing in the water, the rocks of malice in the water tried to tip me over, but my balance was true and the seeds were safe from harm, but I am not safe, I'm dying inside.

I don't know why, but after every agonizing stab from this knife when I'm not looking, it hurts, but the numbing knife only helped me when it was pulled out, it has holes in the knife so she could pull it out without me knowing.

I always turned around and cleaned the knife covered in my blood, I always gave it back to her, but every wipe upon this blade made it grow, and every wipe made the label on the handle more clear.

I find out in the end this knife is called narcissistic rage, the brand of this knife is called gaslighting and my blood is the supply.

I didn't know any of this until it was too late to save myself, my reality wasn't real, my dreams are gone, my nightmare is all consuming and existent, my seeds are still safe, but I am not.

When I start to notice the knife exists, I forgive her, the conditioning made the skies darker, I wipe the blood off and give it back, the knife is now a sword, it's name is discard.

The waters are uneven, the piranhas of triangulation feel like strangulation, my clothes are still soaking wet with anguish, my hair is slimy and covered in Shame, my feet are cold and numb from the grief.

I can't understand why I'm here,
  I can't understand why I'm actually meant to be here.
  
Every turbulence has thrown me down, she pushes me over head first, as I try to lean up to breathe she has her foot on my neck in the cold numbing river, but this river does not affect her, this river is warmer than her, the warmth from anguish pleased her, the piranhas followed her commands to bite, she smirked as the rocks she placed crushed against my head.

She waited until I went limp every time, but she knew idealization CPR, her deceit was without compassion, her rage was without sympathy, but I had severe ambience abuse amnesia, I still couldn't remember the mountain, I am now trauma bonded from the stabs she's counting.

I only saw her veil, her gaze convinced me I placed these rocks here, her gaze made me ignore the stonewalls around me, her pure hatred was covered in false intentions, her illusion was my isolation.

As everything was becoming clearly dangerous, as everything went pitch black, I look back and see the light from the mountain glowing, I see there is something wrong where I'm at, I see the seeds are not growing, I start to see the pain all around me.

Non the wiser, I keep coming back from drowning, I keep falling for misery, I keep wiping my blood off the blade, I keep isolated, but now I feel there is something painfully wrong, the reason abates me but I feel it, it hurts, it's camouflaged by deceit, it's all in my head, my coffin is soon to be my bed.

I look to the shores, there are other villagers worried, they are waving frantically, they're pointing at a waterfall ahead, this waterfall is called Doom, this fall would be death, the sound is raging, the mouth all consuming.

I see the stream to the side that the villagers are pointing to, I see the calm waters awaiting our safety, but the boat will not fit.

Only me and the seeds are real, everything else around me is illusional, the trauma delusional, the possible harm to the seeds was not refutable, my love for misery was unsuitable.

I could see my life was in danger, I could see the stream nearby screaming safety, I knew the seeds needed me, now I can't stop shaking.

Without her knowing what I was doing, I turned my back towards her facing the water, I knew she was going to stab me over and over again until I turned around, I now see the hypnotic eyes behind the veil. Not turning around only enraged her, the blood on the knife was condesating.

  The safety of the stream for my seeds was a new found glory in my exodus.
  
I paddled with my small hands this large weighted boat towards the stream, her knife was venomous, the water was echoless, the air imparted dreadfulness, all of this was dimensionless, all of this was not real, unless I let it be, now I can see, now I can finally flee.

As I came closer to the stream the waterfall grew stronger, the pain larger, the sound louder, I knew we were closer to the end, I knew I needed to jump off with my seeds, but I know the torment will end.

I melted my enduring pain inside with molten lava heartache to mold anew, I compartmentalize because I have to choose.

I had a vision that if I jump, the seeds will be safe, the climb to the mountain can still happen, I knew I was right about how I felt all along, I realized the veil couldn't cover the true self, I now believed In me.

I now know the water air and land were not what she made me believe, I knew I didn't choose this path, I knew I could survive, I know the seeds are going to be safe now. I know because I manifested instead of throwing in the towel.

Once close enough I finally looked at her and smiled I love you, jumping into the river I could feel the bitter cold agonizing tormenting river smash me with bereavement and disillusion by dissociation, I felt the coma of trauma surround, for I am now trauma bound.

I hold my seeds up high, I kept them safe because they don't feel the water, they're starting to sprout already, no more decay.

As I climb out of the frigid waters and still dripping wet, the drops are red, my feeling is coming back, my back is full of knives, I'm scared but I survived.
Knowing the worst is over I look back to her, she is consuming the river because she was the source, everything dark folds in on itself because the light cannot touch here, for this black hole is collapsing in on itself, I cover the seeds to shield them of this exorcist, they're safe here because my love is relentless.

The tormenting pain makes it hard to stand tall, still going through bereavement of a false reality where I lost it all, the answers we're all lost in the waterfall
"" "" "" "" "" "" "" "" "" "" "" "" ”"" "" "" "”" "" ""
Ah, Coventry, thou art but dead now-to me;
Thy life is not alive, and thy winds are too cold
Thou art as filthy as dust can be, and eyes might see;
Thy hearts are too bold, and to greed-your soul hath been sold.
And I want not, to be pictured by thy odd art;
For than oddness itself, 'tis even paler, and more odd;
And 'tis not honest, and full of disputing fragments;
Gratuitous in its earnest, talkative in each of its sort.
Ah, Coventry, I shall go, and catch up-with the strings of my story,
Which thou hath destroyed for the sake of thy fake harmony;
And in my tears lie thy most fragrant joys, and delightful sleep,
Which thou findeth tantalising, but idyllic-and satisfactory.
Ah, Coventry, go away-from my sight, as I solve my misery;
T'is misery thou hath assigned to, and dissolved over me,
I bid thee now fluently blow away from my face;
With a spitefulness so rare, and not to anyone's care nor taste;
And doth not thou question me, no more, about my tasks-or simply, my serenity;
For thou hath fooled me, and testified not-to my littlest serendipity,
You who claimed then, to be one of my dearest friends;
And now whom I detest-cannot believe I trusted thee back then.
And my soul! My soul-hath been a tangled ball-in thy feeble hands;
Colourless like a stultified falsehood, blundering like a normal fiend.

For on thy stilted dreadfulness at night, I hath stepped;
For in front of thy heterogeneous eves, I hath bluntly slept.
I had tasted thy water, and still my tongue is not satisfied;
I had swum in thy pages, but still my blood is not glorified.
Among thy boughs-then I dared, to solidify my fingers;
But still I couldst not bring thee alive, nor comprehend thy winters.
Instead I was left teased, and as confused as I had used to be;
I couldst find not peace, nor any saluted vehemence, in thee.
Ah, I am exhausted; I am brilliantly, and sufficiently, exhausted!
I am like torture itself-and if I was a plant, I wouldst have no bough,
For my branches wouldst be sore and demented,
For my foliage wouldst be tentative and rough.
I hath been ratified only by thy rage and dishonour;
I hath been flirted only, with thy rude hours.
And my poems thou hath insolently rejected,
And my honest lies thou hath instantaneously abused.
Thou consoled me not, and instead went furtive by my wishes;
Thou returned not my casual affection, and crushed my hope for sincere kisses.
I hath solemnly ratified thee, and praised thy music by my ears,
Yet still I twitch-as my sober heart then grows filled with tears.
Ah, thou hath betrayed, betrayed me!
Thy grief is even enhanced now-look at the way thou glareth by my knee!
O, Coventry, how couldst thou betray me-just whenst my time shivered and stopped in thine,
Thou defiled me so firmly; and disgraced the ****** poetry bitterly in thy mind,
As though it wouldst be the sole nightmare thou couldst 'ver find!
Ah, Coventry! Thou art cruel, cruel, and forever cruel!
Thou hath disliked me-like I am a whole scoundrel;
Whenst I but wanted to show thee t'at my poetry was safe, and kept no fever at all;
But no other than an endorsement of thy merriment, and funny disguises for thy reposes.
Ah, how couldst be thou be so remorseful-how couldst thou cheat me, and pray fervently-for my fall!
And to thee, only greed is true-and its satisfaction is thy due virtue,
For in my subsequent poetry, still thou shalt turn away-and scorn me once more;
With menace and retorts simply too immune, and perhaps irksome loath-like never before.

Ah, but how far shall thy distaste for me ever go?
Thou who hath blurred me-'fore even seeing my dawn,
'Fore even lurching forward, to merely glance at my town.
Thou art but afar, and now shall never enter my heaven,
For victory is no longer my shadow, 'tis to which I shall return.
I am like a shame behind thy glossy red curtain,
I am a pit whom thou couldst only befall, and joylessly spurn.
But ah! Still I am blessed, within my imperfection-thou knoweth it not?
I am blessed by the airs-and wealthy Edens of the Almighty, thou seeth t'is not?
He who hath the care, and pride anew-to cut thy story short,
He who hath listened to my cores, and shall deliver me from thy resort.
T'us I shall be afraid not, of thy wobbly tunes-and thy greedy notes!
For humility is in my heart, though probably thou hath cursed me;
And bidden me to let my soul detach, and run astray,
Still I shall find my fertile love, and go away;
I shall bring him away-away from thy abrupt coldness-and headless dismay;
I shall nurse and love him again-like I hath done yesterday, and even today;
And in t'is, I shall carest not for what thou might say to me later-day after day.
For as far as I shall go, my poetry t'an shall entail me;
And thus follow the liveliness, and scrutiny-of my merritorious paths only,
And in the name of Him, shall love thee and rejoice in thee not;
But within my soul, it shall recklessly, but patiently-do them both;
'Tis my very goal it shall accomplish,
And for my very romance, shall it sketch up altogether-such a mature bliss.
I should dance, thereof-just like a reborn female swan;
And forget everything life might contain-including my birth, as though life wouldst just be a lot of fun.

But I shall be alive like my tenderness,
So is my love-he t'at hath brought forth my happiness,
I shall be dressed only in the finest clothes-and he my prince,
As the gem of my soul hath desired our holiness to be, ever since.
Yet still I hope thou wouldst be freed, and granted my virtue,
Though still I doubt about which-for thy fruits are weightless, and to forever remain untrue.
Such be the case, art thou entitled to my current screams,
And blanketed only by my most fearful dreams.
T'is is my curse-in which thou shalt be in danger, but must be obedient,
For curses canst be real-and mine considers thee not, as a faithful friend.
And obedience be not in thee-then thou shalt all be death,
Just like thou hath imprisoned my love, and deceived my breath!
Still-my honesty leads me away, and shall let me receive my triumph;
As so cravingly I hath endured-and tried to reach, in my poems!
Ah, Coventry, unlike the stars-indulged in their tasteful domes,
Even when I am free, in thee I shall never be as joyful-and thus thou, shalt never be my home.
WCA Apr 2014
I have uncovered that there is no word that holds more sorrow than potential.
Fate lies as only an unwitting alibi,
Malice only a valcher in its wake.
Potential is the reaching, unavoidable canyon in the soul,
So very tainted and saddened for things that never existed.
It is a pitiful nostalgia for words never spilt to the floor.
For the kisses that never stained the lips.
For the fingers that never brushed the skin,
With the electricity that was never felt.
For the places that were empty of you.
Potential, I have found,
Is a human construction.
Sinisterly designed to haunt you with who you are,
Remind you of who you are not,
And the vast, treacherous difference between the two.
-

(I mourn you in all the things we had not been,
I mourn you in all the places we had not seen.)
Chelsea Eldridge Mar 2011
Rest in peace willow of the nest
My condolences for such dreadfulness
I did not mean for the sun to neglect you
I did not mean for your leaves to abandon you

Forgive me, dear willow of the nest
Forsaken by all the living
****** by such dreary darkness.

Dear willow tree,
No longer will I burden thee
When your seeds begin to grow
I hope that you know
Your new life will intertwine with my death
And with my last breath I’ll curse you with my sorrow
You won’t see me tomorrow
Past the pain of now’s goodbyes
Please tell me why, oh why!

Dear willow of the nest
Do you think pondering such revenge is best?
Trade your soul in for new branches instead of
Sleeping in the maggots that fill your trunk bed

Meanwhile,
lingering upon the magic tops of neighboring trees are new seeds
They shall bring with them bold opportunities,
Their company shall bloom gardens
They shall dance in the wind while summoning a thousand pardons
For they shall not be the ones to fill your empty nest
That once carried in it a hopeful wish, at best.

Every last piece of me has dispersed into the universe
Never again shall they come together
Never again shall I be whole
You can grow old with your new endeavor
While I create art with my soul.

Goodbye, my beloved willow tree of the nest
You were a fantasy; a courter; a lover;
A whimsical romance, at best.
As of lately, I've been lost in translation
in this transcended state of thought
every thought running into one another
Impeding on the clarity of my perception
Leaving me in a state of panic
Searching for something slightly out of reach
As the needle threads the weave
My mind entangles the threads into
a mass insanity of run on sentences
Leaving me nothing but breathless
Left in a state of weak existence
Wrapped within the roots of the
stem of my thoughts and they
grow into shadows of monsters
trying to break free from the dark
but they cannot reach the other side
The light, it seems much too far
to carry on. This train wreck
of distortion is slowly seeping
into my soul. Deafening the
voices at my beck and call
A tragic winding road of
memories keeps bringing me
right back to the same place
I just left and now I'm right
back where I started again
A streaming flowing river of
never-ending thoughts
Always escaping me
Just there long enough
to hold on to a string of words
that hardly make any sense
Am I dreaming or is this death?
I cannot recall ever lying down
on that bed. Resting my head
where all those demons dwell
The lump in my throat fiercely swells
and the smoke filled coughs mask my cries
Repairs the dreadfulness of my daily life
I cannot escape this restless mind
It won't let me rest, it won't power down
The switch is broken and I've lost my crown
along with all the jewels I once possessively possessed
My mind is wandering somewhere
and I haven't a clue when It's due back
© 2013 Christina Jackson
Ellie Geneve Apr 2016
You still make your own bread
because it reminds you of your mother
working hard to feed her 10 children
during the dreadfulness of war, near the flaming stove

It reminds you of a time when things were anything but easy
When you had to save your meal for a scarcer time
When you woke up before the rooster's call
and prayed for your family's safety
When you realized just how much
burden and uncertainty your rib cage can carry
When you learned what strength really is
and how grief truly feels
When dehydration turned your tears into dust
When sleep was a luxury your worried eyes could not afford
When every new breath felt like a responsibility
and every water drop down your throat
felt like blessing you couldn't afford

You still make your own bread*
I think people wonder why you want to remember such a painful time
But I understand you completely

Pain is the bitter flavor your taste buds are used to
It is the background music of your video

The idea of remembering the painful past
Is not to feel pain, it is to feel the joy within the pain

The flour taste remaining on your lips
after you voraciously devour the loaf of bread
The weight your thin arms learned how to carry
The look of appreciation your mother gave you
The sense of responsibility that made you feel needed
The sunrise that made you feel yet alive
The 5 minute snooze that gave you energy
The relief after tear-less cries
The prosperous smiles
And the loss of fears

You still make your own bread*
It tastes terrible
But I love it endlessly
Collin Nuetraal Dec 2013
when time starts to slumber foward
a revealation too great to walk
perseverance spirals into a void
of confusion
depression
clocks tick backwards
but your mind wanderes in the future

a time in the future
a moment in the past
an hour of the present
the channeling of fate

sometimes everythings just perfect
the music is sweet to the soul
the body wants to move
a tear of joy

after winter is spring
the trees dance and the flowers smile
the spring sings songs of peace
silence in the loudest of heights

a time for dreadfulness
a time for raving
a time for  serious thoughts
a time for plurfect

its good to not judge
acceptance of time as it is
peace is when you understand
you don't need to understand

a time for experiencing
a time for understanding
KS Julianne Aug 2014
Sitting semi-sola on the cornerstone,
Next to unknown; destination: another home.
And in a moment of a day not so dreary with cofidence to loan,
I'd ask them to take me with them to not feel so alone.

But I didn't have happiness to borrow or loan,
So I sat still and quiet against the cornerstone.
I watched them ride away, feeling completely alone,
Watching them silently as they made their way home.

And in another moment where I had something to loan
Other than dreadfulness at the self-ignited idea of being alone
I'd ask them to take me to another cornerstone,
***** and dusty, but nevertheless a true home.
rafsan Oct 2017
As much as I miss the London Tube,
for its grandeur aesthetic,
for its fast-paced movement;

I fear of missing you,
for the way your lips shape up your pretty smile,
for the way your brevity articulates your erudite thoughts,
for the dreadfulness of the warmth,
and the heartbreaks that follow suit.

As much as I fall in love with The City,
for its vintage Victorian era buildings,
for its chaotic hectic way of life;

I fear of falling in love with you,
for your deep meaningful eyes,
for the firmness of your principles and values,
for the dreadfulness of the warmth,
and the heartbreaks that follow suit.

But the fearfulness of life is what makes us humans,
To be in fear, to be wishful, to be hopeful,
To move forward in higher spirits and stronger heart.
Collin Nuetraal Dec 2013
when time starts to slumber foward
a revealation too great to walk
perseverance spirals into a void
of confusion
depression
clocks tick backwards
but your mind wanderes in the future

a time in the future
a moment in the past
an hour of the present
the channeling of fate

sometimes everythings just perfect
the music is sweet to the soul
the body wants to move
a tear of joy

after winter is spring
the trees dance and the flowers smile
the spring sings songs of peace
silence in the loudest of heights

a time for dreadfulness
a time for raving
a time for  serious thoughts
a time for plurfect

its good to not judge
acceptance of time as it is
peace is when you understand
you don't need to understand

a time for experiencing
a time for understanding
Daniel Samuelson Jul 2013
I glared Pandora in her sinful eyes
And simply asked her, "Why?"
Concerning all the dreadfulness unleashed upon the earth
And only for a peek, for the sake of curiosity. 
Serpents and plagues spewed past her decaying lips,
Tears streamed and turned to blood 
On contact with her ancient skin. 
Her eyes pooled and screamed "I'm sorry,"
But faint and drowning, as if under oceans:
Seas of anguish
And centuries of bearing blame.
aj Sep 2016
i am in stasis, prisoner to the nightsky
and all his dreadfulness

laying, helpless - waiting
for someone to steal my heart and end this
senseless aching

no more pain shall be felt in the name of a ******
angel

the lord has no sympathy for those who speak with their eyes
i am deaf to the silence and my ears bleed everyday
tell me you were crying on the day i stopped loving you

watch me as satan's hellboys
laugh with glee
while they pull apart my rib cage

bone to bone

watch me wonder if the pain

is worse than the love i felt for you

tell me that in the wake of all this destruction,
i have been made stronger

a black pearl waiting to be torn from its home
some day i wont have to wait anymore
10 of 12
Dark Delusion May 2017
Keep holding on to the light.
It never fully leaves when the moon rises.
But be aware of the shadows.
There’s a whole other world inside of them.

They drag you down and down.
Until you hit the bottom of your soul.
It’s cold and dark, an unknown existence.
You can never leave, it’s too late.

Stay like the weak wreck you are.
You’re not even trying to escape.
Do you give up that easy?
You’re a mess, an emotional mess.

Stop crying, it won’t help.
Stop shouting after your consciousness.
Free your soul from the fear.
Help, instead of being trapped inside of yourself.

Purify the darkness, let the moon rise once again.
Letting the light help you live.
But there’s a risk, the shadows.
They’re waiting, they’re hungry for a pathetic prey like you.

Stop keeping the circle of time in your life.
Leave it alone, before you fall into a pit of misery.
It’s dark down there, just like your soul.
It’s more lethal than ever; with walls painted with despair.


Eyes straining in the dark, searching after something usable.
Stay sane, if you can keep up with the twisted voices.
Don’t let them drag you deeper down.
Don’t let them manipulate you once again

A million worlds in one.
They’re all inside of me.
Screams filling  my lungs, it’s ringing in my ears.
They’re controlling me from my blind side.

Keep up with the running tears,
The pain has gotten deeper.
The hatred is using me.
The fear is haunting me forever.

There’s a hole in my heart.
The moon’s shining through my emptiness.
It’s making me sleepy, I see them.
It’s the shadows, they’re gonna get me.

I woke up by the river; mirroring the stars.
The moon saved me once again on this summer night.
The shadows dragged me here, they wanted to drown me in dreadfulness.
They’re what I fear the most; my Summer Nightmares.
Born Jun 2017
Maybe I'll exhibit an ounce of satisfaction
When I see your heart fumbling on the floor,
On account of all the pain and sorrow it caused

No
Your burden doesn't turn you into a Saint
And no
You will not cloak yourself on hope
You'll not shade the bitterness that comes with hate
you will long for and sail on dejection,
Always looking on dreadfulness of your past tales

Dry your eyes
am talking to you
As days bleed into years
you'll soak up a great deal of agony
your life will be on a constant loop of despair

And then
Only then
You will remember this poem
Isabella H May 2012
What was that was "best" about my true feelings for you?
Is it that you once knew I did?
Was it because you had feelings before as well?
What excatly do you know or see?
Is it really ok if we were never meant to be?
One day can we not be on with eachother in harmony?
Is it not now but later?
Even with an "I'm sorry" that can light up the sitution,
To solve such a problem,
Why can that be enough for me?
I should be on top of the world but only a frown of unstabled expression lays on my face.
Should tears fall down, like any other?
Nothing but nothing is my answer,




A piece of paper that glazes at me with dreadfulness and a woeful picture of precious memories of a one sided story.






All over again.

But Thank You,
You really don't understand how much it can change the way someone view on everything.
Again Thank You,

May 2 , 2012
-
May 3 , 2012
belle Aug 2015
"Perchance I was immune,
Or just dictated to be.
"Hearken," says the distant tune
Of my heart's running beat."

"Alone was I in this mini hideout,
Isolated from anguish and pain.
Strange how the dark comforts me,
Compels me to believe I'm sane."

"My old man seems present,
But he is not there
Does not seem to be himself
But a monster from my nightmare."

"Each time he tattoos a bruise on me,
I hear him curse my name.
Mothballs were my only comfort
Hanged clothes were the very same."

"The pattern repeats by itself,
Bluster transcends the boundary.
Even in my nicest, loveliest sleep,
In deep quietude you barge in."

"I desired to abruptly end it all
Inside this fancy closet.
Is life all solitude and dreadfulness,
Or was my life just an accident?"

"It breaks my heart to know
I always seemed invisible.
It were my last words.
Bid farewell, wooden wall."

It were my child's last words.
Forgive me, wooden wall.
they think, yet have
they googled bullying.

what is so wrong with
being kind and gentle
in approach.

we have found here
that softness works
well.

to escape the dreadfulness
of life.

prevent wars, even small ones.

sbm.
Xaela San Jul 2018
Remember the last time we walk
Also it was our last time to talk,
It was the night of snowing December
Freezing our bodies with its cold winter

But there's no use crying again and again
As memories flows of you leaving with a train,
Together with our tears falls like rain
Saying our last farewell caused pain

Those vivid memories of you leaving for war
Drowns me with anxiety and uncertainly,
Waiting for you to go home feels like enternity
But keeps me aiming far;

And I've always known war is a game
A game of life and death
Which even a man without a name
Would die in womb of his mother;

Now death has prevailed, your life has ended
Promises, shattered, broken instead;
Your lifeless body was an evidence
Of war's dreadfulness and cruelty at worst.
She walks in beauty and with elegance.
But I cannot seem to reach for her lips.
She leaves to go on her annual trips.
When she’s gone, I fill up with helplessness.
I will never feel such a blessedness
Until her restless green eyes come back here.
Losing her is the only thing I fear.
Just the mere thought fills me with dreadfulness.

The baroness came to grant me a kiss.
My heart skips a beat as she walks towards me.
Her radiant smile burns into my soul.
Spirits combined for a moment of bliss.
Our love shall last, it was meant to be.
To be joined at last, to become a whole.
Odd Odyssey Poet Sep 2022
Baptized in water, to wash afresh life
They flipped a quarter to pay a wreck their stripes
Too many strikes in the lines; I've done ill twice
To prove a lesson I never seem to learn
And by the next turn on an unfamiliar road
As where the water drips off the bottom sink—filled in dirt
I'll over think a wish that employers pay my worth

Baptized in fire, of all those miscreants I'd like to burn
Setting flame to burning evil intent of worldly incense
As the idea of a heaven paradise, is the only call to repent
To accept the mess you made—no sense or point to be afraid
Tip the finger despite the good intent, but a ******* in prayer
Nowadays sinners aren't ashamed, to gain success out of his name
Heathen, Atheist, Christian, Jew, Muslim, Buddhist; all the same
Living the most lively of lives, but we'll all die in the end

Baptized in Earth, saying goodbye to befores, family and friends
It's the spoil of soil that buries my dreams with a fresh rose
She smells of intentions, but I cannot smell good with a ****** nose
Ironically all things are red, that of which we've read
To share with the young, or not really care—we all die in the end
Caught in this life's trap of the pleasure's unfair; a bear in a snare
To rob you bare, with tears and a ripped bandage that you tear
The ones you love aren't always there—in moment's phone call away
Ring, ring, beep, beep, sing, sing, sip, sip; sorry I'm drinking today
You're just throwing those hopes in the air, feeling down by gravity

Baptized in winds, swinging carelessly in hopeful imaginings
That you're the one to be the golden egg of your family
An idea I had once till it cracked, so I sit back relax and laugh
Mask my pains with a grin and jokingly demeanor to always pass
Speaking smooth joy out of a tongue of jazz, and jazz hands
Fingers splayed to play in quotation marks of having a good day
And the line phrase of always saying, "yeah I'm definitely okay"

All in these elements—restless, pretend excellence, dreadfulness
In the endlessness of subtle pettiness, of my helplessness
As of my gentleness elegance, in being my life as the evidence
I've been baptized fully by the full of all these elements
Human Jun 2018
You Talk too much
"Check what I found!!"
Move way wayy back
"Don't Make A Sound"

You yell
You scream
"A lie
A scheme"

Get lost
Get away
Life's not white or black
Just grey

It will pass it shall
It is what it is

Calm down pal
It's alright just chill

Body temperature rising
Heat nd fire builds up
It's all synchronizing
Watch out heads up

U saw it coming
U knew it'll happen
Calm urself down
Abit more till u drow

Succumb to their wishes
Obey their demands
Dress up nd role over
Perform their commands
Be quiet and listen
Do u understand?
Act or fake it
Just shake the **** hand

Smile
Wave
Live in a cave
Away from all ppl
Do not be their slave

Ur not in a cage
Just stuck on a stage
Preforming the acts ur told
Ur not completely bold

Deliberately falling
Constantly stalling

Isolated indeed
Elsewhere attached
Somehow freed
Chick just hatched
Ignorant as ever
Pretending to be clever

Precaution advised
Lifetime ahead
Something revised
Yet u are dead

Ask for
Redemption
Receive no exemption

Satisfaction obscured
Resistance assured
Yap I'm *******

Growth all over
Malignant, benign?
Makes no difference
This life isn't mine

Concealing truthfulness
Overwhelmed by dreadfulness

Brightened past
Inspected expectedly
Nothing bright about it
Accepted rhetorically

Complaining all over  
Demanding closure
Contemplating scars
A world of cigars

Brilliant circumstances  
Or so they say
Thoroughly examined
Yet ****** me up day by day

Transparently seeking
Truth, its demanding
Reluctantly speaking
Truth, is outstanding

Strands and threads of hope
No it's just one, and mirrors
It's doubling, tripling nd more
Fake and false, an excuse for war

Confetti in a balloon
Released to the moon
Wishing for light to shine over
To find me that clover

A sack of ribbons
Dropping like a ****
Hitting the pavement
Like an overweight man's ***
Blown over with the wind
Flowing thru the street
There's a cool sound to that happening
What an awesome beat

I might sound trippy
I may seem cold
Do I even listen
To whatever I'm told

Go on
Move on
It's over
Or, almost over
Close enough tho
Ud be satisfied
Or so ud say
Who would know tho?
If it weren't for u
It won't show tho
That u knew


The beginning
A bunch of intertwined thoughts
Dr Peter Lim Mar 2020
....but they didn't believe
life was chancy and contingent
lofty words they displayed
priding in being intelligent

'all would be well, worry not
life is a rosy garden'
cruel storms came to lash
soon enough after such words were spoken-

the realist does take cognisance
nothing is ever permanent
all things are in ceaseless flux
beyond the brightest minds' discernment-

vulerable and brittle is our human condition
our joys, our hopes, our dreams are all transient
there's healing only in our love and devotion
amidst the dreadfulness and fragility so apparent.

— The End —