'Hypervenalating' poems

Melody Jan 2011

I feel like I should just start hypervenalating right there.
I don't know how to respond.
Should I let the tight tears just run down my cheeks unstoppingly.
I'm in the middle of confusion.
My stupid teenage years.
Of every memory I've had...
Never like this has happened.
Never this confused.
But as a teenager you're all like actually caring about what you look like, who likes who, the latest couples and all this other crap.
Well looks like my worrying of caring about that stuff is over for the rest of my life, because my life will be full of confusion and nothing else.

While all confusion lays on my hands.
I walk into the dimming light.
the killing, murderous light of love.
It's so strong.
Am I walking the right path?
Did I take the right turn?
Did I turn into the wrong corridor?
There were millions.
For a Melody like me.
I took the right path.
The right map.
The right direction.
The right corridor.
There is no doubt.
Though I'm not perfect.
So something has to be an obstacle then.
And so I have my too tall of a hurdle to try to jump over.
My millions of corridors I could've taken I took the right one.
And ended up with the millionth corridor of confusion.
But I took the right path.
I know it.
And so I'm sitting here writing this.
If I hadn't of taken my millionth path.
I would have never been sitting here writing my feelings out.
All of my millionth path of confusion too you.
My millionth path was my right path.
What is your millionth path?
Does life ever get you thinking,
that you're not you but you're someone else?
Exactly. I'm not Melanie. I'm Melody.
And you can't be me.
Because I'm one of a kind.
And so are you.
So take your millionth path.
And make it different.

All true feelings. All true story.What a long explanation to go along with it. Take your millionth path to happiness.

"Happiness is not what we're given or give out,but what we have to find our millionth path."- From Unreplacable.

Ash Wilhelm Jan 2019

The Earth Has Always Been Turning Away From Me

Ever since I was little someone was always better than me. In third grade the boys could always run faster and the girls had beautiful long blonde hair and could always walk with grace. I could never understand how they were so perfect. No one wants anything from you in the third grade.
And my sadness never asks for much but it always seem to ask for something that I cannot give.
My sadness is like when you have a cold and you cannot breathe but with me it’s the thought process of ‘oh i’ll never be able to breathe again’. Even though I know I’m being dramatic or maybe I’m not or maybe I am or maybe I’m not as adults tell me when they say to perk up and ask me ‘what do you even have to be sad about’.
And that’s the thing. I can never pinpoint exactly where the sadness started or what triggers it. Nor can I ****** mystery it where I have the huge buliton board with all of the picture of me with tears streaming down my face with string connecting the pictures.
But I can tell you about all the weird times. Like when I was writing a thank you note and none of my words were stringing together like they normally do. As if they were laughing at me. As if they see me hypervenalating in a room full of my friends and me not knowing where It’s coming from or where it’s going.
Them asking me what’s wrong is such a loaded question they should instead ask me where I’ve been. Ask me when and where I was when I felt that I have completely lost control of my life and when I began just going through the motions.
And I know the Earth is revolving around the sun and the stars are just watching but I just have the aching feeling that I am an undiscovered planet that NASA has somehow not detected (with all of their millions and trillions of dollars why can’t they find this ***** blonde hot mess?) and the Earth is simply turning away from me.
My sadness isn’t humorous but laughing at it is the only way I can explain it to people.

— The End —