"hesistate" poems
Dreaming is good.
But dreaming is bad, because it hurts.
Dreams die.
You grow up thinking you are invicible, forever amazing.
You grow up realizing it does not work that way.
You grow up to realize the people around you want you to be safe.
Life isn’t about being daring anymore.
Life is about having a safe future.
Pick a safe job.
Live your life.
Enjoy it when you can.
But the fireceness of life leaves you.
Adults burn the fire in you.
Cold water on your dreams, wash them all away.
Adults throw you in the wilderness to make you realize.
Realize life is not a game anymore.
Adults burn the fire in you.
They feed your insecurities.
Cultivate your fears.
Then feed them back to you.
They’re scared. They don’t want you to face a wall of disappointements.
But they won’t let your try, either.
Adults burn the fire in you.
Not consciously.
Slowly.
Mysteriously.
And suddenly you, with all your dreams in your heart, face doubt.
Doubt.
The worst feeling.
Worst than love. Worst than hate.
Doubt.
Sinuously cracking your hopes and dreams.
Doubt, creeping in your mind, burning bridges.
Doubt, expanding every time you hesistate.
Doubt, forever in your head.
Doubt burned my dreams to ashes.
Doubt washed them all away.
Oct 6, 2014
Oct 6, 2014 at 7:55 AM UTC
sloppy seconds turn into somber slumber
and i'm still spinning in a universe that's unsure
unrest becomes irreversible, irreplacable, irrevokable
slipping through cynical sunrises and statistically normal sunsets
grab hold to the ground, hug gravity tight as everything
tries to fling me from functionality and into so called "freedom"
find focus, find focus, find focus
hocus pocus hums under hymns spoken hesitantly
and i hesistate again and again, i hesitate
finding the magic within the madness is my specialty
sometimes so much so that i subject self to sinking slowly
into the muck that ***** my skin off of my bones
flapping floppy lips leak loosly limp ideals and i look
to my black widow for conviction, confirmation, and consistency
meditative mornings and deep dark evenings become the norm
housing imaginary friends and hoping to inspire intellectual integrity
family finds new meaning in full ****** up webs that spin
us all up and spit us out on the same ground, but we are safe
here in our humble, happy home, we are safe and we are
happy in the simplest sense of the word
Mar 23, 2013
Mar 23, 2013 at 12:17 PM UTC
your eyes tell a tale
a story of their own
about your struggle
as you try and try
and reclaim your throne
the life you made your own
which people threw aside
and up in the air
like they didn't care
you'll find yourself again
even if you are
your one and only friend
just keep your head up
don't fall to the ground
don't let others
break your heart
you are stronger
than all this pain
this pain will shape you
and create strength
you just don't know it yet
baby, you'll win this fight
don't cry for a sinner
who took you
for granted
you will find home
in someone else's heart
not because you're broken
but because you're worth it
baby, you deserve it
you will find hope again
and find your true friends
and live happy until the end
don't hesistate
don't waste time
on someone
who can't love
you deserve more
that is for sure
Nov 7, 2013
Nov 7, 2013 at 5:48 AM UTC
The glare of my innocence
Was the image you laid your eyes on
Your eyes caught mine and they exchanged something our minds couldn't forget
Something Borrowed
Every step you took towards me
Was like a mistake waiting to happen
I didn't hesistate to let you step further into my world.
You opened your mouth and whispered sweet nothings in my ear,again
Something borrrowed
I fell into a whirl pool, a storm
Something I thought was a gaze of adventure
Just one touch took me a million places
My heart races,you captured it and again
Something borrowed
You Undress my mind, my body,my soul
The steam we let loose outlined our shadows
And masked our feelings
You enter and take my innocence
Again
Something borrowed
Something as precious as my time,my attention,heart and innocence is something no man has ever embarked on
It was priceless,until you came along,used it and put it back
But not the way it was found
I was just something
Something borrowed.
Jun 9, 2015
Jun 9, 2015 at 7:31 AM UTC
Someone asked why (if you write) do you write.
Well...
I can't say I have a cause anymore,
I'm not an activist these days.
I've given up on the fight between good/evil
right/wrong
big/little
rich/poor
Let them all win, let them all lose
the side to be on changes too quickly
and in one slow word, I am the enemy.
I am not after being the ***** mystery.
I don't write to be a *** symbol, ****** a **** poet
It just doesn't work for me.
My boyancy deflates,
there is no pucker to my lips,
no pout on my face.
I hesistate to declair writing "fun".
It isn't, well, it can be if you don't care if it is "good".
It's not that I even have anything to say to the world.
The World knows much better than I.
So why?
No reason.
May 4, 2015
May 4, 2015 at 1:01 PM UTC