got to be weary
the mornings are misty,
cold and dark.
my head hurts as I haul myself out of bed,
put on clothes that clearly don't go well together,
and set off through the fog of dawn.
the mornings are misty,
cold and dark.
my head hurts as I haul myself out of bed,
put on clothes that clearly don't go well together,
and set off through the fog of dawn.
There are days when I fall asleep wondering about the line between stupid and brave.
Brave
Is a hero rushing into battle
Ready to fight
For their passion
Stupid
Is a hero rushing into battle
No one looks like a villain once dead.
There is no threat in a lifeless body,
In screaming mothers and weeping daughters.
Once exposed, his blood is no longer poison.
I'm not sure how I feel about this poem, I don't think it's really good but I really wanted to participate in this challenge. :)
All times my heart has
Broken into pieces
More often than not you will find language will bow for you
Put your palms on a notebook you filled as a child and with enough intention the push will bring up sentences and phrases you'd forgotten
One sentence, they wrote, and a hundred fingers set to keys and responded.
It's that time of year again
where some "news" are formed
and some "olds" are forgotten.
The faces of friends
become familiar again,
while last year's math formulas
do not.
We come together
I creeped through the doorway;
Looking over Mom’s shoulder to find my
Daily dose of everyone's obituary.
Each vine of life is
Frail and cradled by the lava of metal
Red is the color I lack.
It's rumored to bleed--but I never saw it this month
or the last.... few (+2 years) times
I've been sick for too long,
lacking something that will give "a women her purpose".
You created memories
And then got to move on
Leaving them untouched and perfect
Mine are being trampled.
Walked all over by my friends
My peers
I can't DO this
This constant emotional bombardment
I can’t breathe
No matter how hard I try
I’m still gasping for air
Drowning in the silence
Or in the noise
My own mind
Suffocating me
The trees talk,
you know?
They talk and if you listened
you would know,
they whisper
like kindergarteners
who can't stand straight in lines
but they can jump straight