Pulsating. Enriching. Switch. The ends frayed and dancing in the wind have become the beginning. The way it starts, messy and grieved for you truly are hurt. Softly, with grace and patience, speak to me. The fears you hold gently in your arms are tainted lies. Open your arms to the clouds and release them. Release yourself from this tumultuous pain you have held for so long. Let me comfort your wounds, bandage them as they ooze. Careful I am, careful I will be because I love you. As your heart beats and drops I am here.
Joann laid next to me, a beauty cloaked in a ghostly hue
who she was I never knew
Gone in a flash
Came back striking like lightning
She was a force I couldn't overcome
A silent ruse
A mystical muse
Why would she choose
me to welcome her back into life
I'm as lost as lost can be.
No direction, no suggestion to give.
She laid there silently watching me with her hollow eyes.
Joann please stop looking at me!
I’ve been trying to understand you for some time now.
Trying to reach you but have not been able to grasp you.
The time has gone now.
But where are you?
I’ve been trying to call you for some time now.
Trying to listen to you but have not been able to hear you.
The past is fraught now.
But what is our friendship to you?
I’ve been trying so hard to support you with love and kindness.
Patience and comfort.
Respect and space.
But the distance is loud.
The rejection is even louder.
The silence from your mouth is astronomical.
I’ve been trying
My patience is gone now.
But so are you.
It was peaceful when I closed my eyes. No sounds. No racing thoughts. No visuals. Just static blankness. Spits of light here and there. I heard nothing, saw nothing, was nothing. The world goes at the pace I decide. I am the timekeeper. Once my eyelids flutter open it comes rushing back like acid reflux. Bad taste in my mouth that I can’t get rid of. The sting of it all. The dreams we had dissipating right before our eyes, never having a chance to materialize. Can nothing go our way? Is doom our fate forever? I can’t stand sizzling in burden. Feeling like my life is passing me by, like I can’t catch it in my grasp. Like I’m helpless in this fight. Drowning in loss, with no pause in this ever-winding road trip through all the things I could be, knowing I could never be. Repeatedly I see my life flash. I am but a passenger stuck in this vehicle that is me. Help me. I cannot help myself. That’s the narrative. I’m lost and sad and tired, and unsure of how to succeed. We were going strong until we crashed. You were freed from this world. I was chained behind. We had it all. You were taken and I was left. But everyday I am back in that car. I am back to the tragedy. That is all there is. Everything we could have been, should have been.
I tried to move forward and found myself strapped in despair and loneliness that gripped me so tightly I only saw spots. We did everything together, went everywhere together. Love attached us to the hip, until you were ripped from my being leaving a gaping bleeding hole that hasn’t been sealed, that my sorrow has peeled it, trying to cope, but it’s not working. I try to hope, I try to dream, I try. But I cannot move. The days are going, the days are going and I’m at a bus stop waiting for a bus that’s never arriving. Why didn’t we go together? Life was supposed to be for us. It was so sweet… us. Lively. Meant for each other and meant for greatness. Meant to thrive in this ruthless world side by side. Partners for life. Now left with an emptiness that cannot be filled in. Watching my life pass me by. Waiting my turn. The fatal turn that will send me flying into your arms. Sorry mom and dad, but I can’t be here.
When the space you leave enters your mind push it away. Your lost presence from that environment was not a mistake. Temporary spaces, limits to how much pain you can endure before you walk away from shame. It’s not your fault, it’s the way things must be. Handle the situation as presented. Don’t look back on the spots of smiles, remember the trauma and the burns. Didn’t feel good then, won’t be better later. Gone for a reason, that’s what they say and it’s true. Skip out on the shadows. Walk into the field of light and bask in those warm rays that caress your arms with gentle ease instead of mean tease. Are you feeling free and lovely? Dousing your heart with love? That’s how it should be, how it will be from now on. Is it fair? Yes. Are there others hurting? Yes. Maybe one day they will join you in the fresh air. Out of the suffocation of fear and distress. You can’t save those not ready to walk away, but you can do better, know better, and walk out that space. You can’t save everyone. It’s not your fault. Keep on your path and stop looking over your shoulder. There is nothing left. Nothing there for you to turn back to. With each step you take, imagine the path behind you disappearing. You couldn’t go back even if you wanted to. Poof! Vanish. Take that deep breath of crisp air and push forward. Forward.
You got this.
It cheapens me.
Closing off to others hidden behind the velvet rope.
Do I look expensive? ‘Cause I feel devalued.
The lack of it depletes me.
I am the fine china behind glass doors.
Fragile and put away for elegant times that never occur.
Vintage or antiquated, left in the past but oh so pretty right?
Merely forgotten behind.
The shiniest penny no one ever wants but sometimes need in those rare times.
So lovely and useless it’s pathetic.
No one cares for it because it has no purpose.
A burden to carry that jingle of pennies.
The journey is silly.
People say you write better with a pen and paper at hand;
But I feel comfortable typing away on the computer.
The ideas flow through me like tears at a funeral,
Quick, emotional, and meaningful.
By the time I find a pen to use,
The idea is gone, swept away by distraction.
My subconscious won’t allow me to retain them anymore.
They’re forever lost, deprived of, and void.
Yes being on the computer has its quirks
YouTube, Figment, Facebook, you name it!
Music helps me think, reading helps me develop ideas
But by the time I find a song, I’ve forgotten what it is, I was about to do.
Please scroll down, for I have a poem for you.
The gleams and splints and a tint of a smile,
A tenth of a second, a quarter of a mile.
Pencil to paper, brain to work;
In the depths of your mind, creativity lurks.
Have a nice day folks, and keep writing!
I insist on making amends. Grudges and judgments do not work anymore. I let go of negativity in order to see and feel the positive energy around me. I have a purpose, a lovely life to live. This hole I once dug myself into…
I shouldn’t have picked up the shovel. I let metal injure soil. Dispersed the nutrients. Exposed carbon. Killed subsurface lives. Broke a strong compound. All for what? A tunnel to China? Hidden treasure? All I saw were dead bodies. All I saw was my heart + brain detached from my body, splattered with soil turned mud from regret.
Now I am repaired. Intact. 110%. Clean of muddy regrets. The hole is filled in, a lump out of place from the smooth landscape. It will take a while to smooth it over. *sigh* Everything takes time.
The trickiest thing to do when not doing is allowing yourself to breathe.
Sitting still, but your body is still working.
Eyes blinking, chest heaving, digestive system keeping the flow of nutrients going.
It’s not possible. We cannot stop going unless we die.
We cannot stop going until we sigh the last exhale left in our lungs.
No sound. No plea. No more bound to the same Earth as the Black sea.
Unattached and unaffiliated to the world.
But this is not so. We can never not do because to stay alive, our bodies are always doing, moving, and producing.
Let us continue to work in perfect harmony.
Breathe. Sink into life and let it carry you through and through and through.
Until your life is good and through.
I’m supposed to be writing something beautiful
Something worthy of praise and gratitude
But everything that comes out is bland
I’m supposed to say something powerful
Something worthy of your silence while I speak.
But nothing comes out.
I’m supposed to be inspiring and enlightening
Someone worthy of respect when I walk in the room
But I don’t know any more than you.
Not a smidge more.
What am I supposed to be?
Who do they think I am?
Why is there this entire personality created for me that is nothing as I am?
I am nothing like the movies.
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