Emotion is the focal point of my being and for as long as I can remember, that was the focal point of my turmoil. I had to go about life people pleasing and making sure other people were ok before checking on myself. Though it was the way I was brought up, I could never figure out who I was as person, and for the most part, I still don’t. I have gone through life not being able to recognize myself, but I could always identify and understand what I felt in the moment.
Though most of the poems that I have written were about that hate and hurt that come with love, I also like to talk about the beauty of how love can make you feel. The butterflies that you feel from seeing your person walk into a room, or how the world gets a little brighter and just a little bit more colorful. Love is such a colorful topic with tons of material and often, I draw from other stories I have heard and write about them because it’s entertaining and it's fun to write from those points of view and to channel what it feels like to be in that position.
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I grow anxious
with the passing gradient of death
That caresses the petals.
I tend to lose myself,
tapping my foot rhythmically
Along with the
Tick
Tick
Ticking
Of the borrowed time
of another living being.
Oh,
How I relate to the
Ancient
Older brother
And ruler of the dead,
He who rules
too silent and lonely.
How He, by chance,
Was sent to be exiled away from the light of family,
Invisible to the eye
And seldom seen again.
It was a shame that no one ever mentioned
That responsibility would cause
Fear
In the hearts of weaker men.
Oh,
how my heart wishes to embrace
The reluctant lady
Of the dead.
The one who caused the death of millions,
Not of her own fruition,
But her mother’s.
She,
The spring breeze,
Caretaker and mother to
Wandering and lonely souls,
And prisoner
in her own home.
In her,
I see myself.
A child pushed into adulthood by the
Folly
Of her superiors.
Mother,
May the gods bless her,
She never told me that innocence could be taken
In a flash.
Nor was I told that the ground could swallow you,
Trapping you,
with nowhere to go.
I was bound by my word
Not to shed tears for you
And I didn’t.
I had you first
While she was absent.
Using me only to receive
Attention
From someone who would only
Use you.
Knew
This wasn’t true,
And believed,
I should stay anyway.
I never know where my head is
But my heart is with you
And it hurts to know
You know
But don’t care.
I miss those eyes
and arms large and dark
But the phone calls will suffice.
Stars collide
you’ll never be mine
and that’s fine,
because most have found
though they may be profound,
it’s hard to love a rebound.
I'm sorry I left you,
Hanging,
But,
I grow weary of spotting your haunting spectre
In the mirror
With no way
of running away
from the memories you bring.
A memory of the way you left me
wanting more
As you were laid out
on the kitchen floor.
Drawing your last breath in my sketchbook
Of tribulation,
I remember begging you to hold on
And stay.
But here you are
Dead eyes and all
Staring back through my eyes
Calling me a failure
Failing to correctly give you
CPR.