I stared at the mirror today
trying to remind myself
that I am a hyena.
Misunderstood, but
great.
Hell - I’m lying
to you. To the world.
To myself.
I’m not even a
cicada -
At least they
have a voice
to scream.
& I wish
I could scream.
So loud the sound
breaks eardrums.
So loud
that all the voices
in my head
shut up.
- dearpoetry
To imagine loving again can be so difficult
To allow yourself that much desire
When such a passing phase can crush your soul
Injure your flesh in ways others cannot see...
To imagine your heart being capable again
Of loving so effortlessly another person
Wanting to put them first and before yourself
Such a feeling can taint the very tendons of your heart...
Comprehending after a first love
That the second could come so easily...
Well that my dear
Is when the truth is seared into the core
Of all you now know
Nothing is sacred
Nothing is "meant to be"
You are simply so desperately searching
For someone who could want you as much as you wan
Its the same old poem,
Filled with sorrowful tears
Written in cold bitter winds
Love that is still there
Yet sadly it is all dead
Who were you to be
Where would you go
From here you move on
Leave the past in the past
Move forward in your life
Better it may seem
Filled with loneliness
Love that you cannot obtain
Remembering the one you lost
Hate growing inside your heart
Drinking your sorrows away
Drugs that kills the pain
Friends who will leave you there
Love with no meaning
Returning to no one to smile to
Tears flowing down till you sleep
Nothing helps you forget
Deep slumber full of blissful dreams
Waking up to the same old routine
Bittern
there's a hurricane
sweeping through my drywall veins,
the masts of my strength
and the sails of my heart
collapsing
anxiety makes a mess of me,
cthulhu a raging dominatrix
breathing against the cage of my ribs
and the slope of my spine
--
a warning whirlwind warring
against the tides of this battlecry
and i can't tell the difference
between the fear
and the hurt
of
goodbye
Before I was breaking,
Shaking,
My life was a bore.
Like in a photograph frozen,
Swollen,
Stolen from the life I had before,
And my soul was battered,
Splattered,
Across the floor.
Pieces of me shatter,
Clatter,
No more.
The words… they fuse,
And loose,
And use parts of me I never had before.
The words, they reel me,
Heal me,
Lay me on the shore.
And now I am peaceful,
With my soul full,
Because of the poet’s chore.
I tried to reason with you.
But reason has left you.
All that you have left
are your delusions so dumb.
I tried to understand you.
Now I know I never will.
Because how can I understand
someone who is incoherent?
I tried to love you without measure.
But now I see that you are not worthy.
For how can I love someone who
will not reciprocate-in-kind to me?
I tried to reason with you.
I tried to understand you.
I tried to love you...but,
now I see it was all in vain.
--RKJ
Why am I living
In a world where people
Who are different
Are afraid
To walk the streets?
Why are people scared
To be unique?
Why is peace
Such an abstract concept?
Why do we hate
Things that cannot
Be changed?
How can you expect to ever be heard by Despereaux-7, literature
Literature
How can you expect to ever be heard
How can you expect to ever be heard
when everyone around you is screaming?
There’s no hope in the light
there’s no safety in numbers
there’s no escape even when you are dreaming.
They say “This is the best time of your lives”,
that it’s all downhill from here.
But all that is doing
is digging a hole
so we can lose ourselves more to our fear.
How can you expect to ever be saved
when for that everyone else sits to wait?
Where there’s never a hero
there is only yourself
who’s already hopeless and lost to hate.
There is never an end to the struggle in sight,
any wish for happiness has gone.
S