Thoughts on repeat.
But if patterns prove the same
It’s all just on me. :|
Depression and hope intertwined
As I try to define
Are these fireflies? :|
An unrelated voice triggers a thousand memories. :|
That name pops up and it’s a punch to my gut.:|
But then I’m wrapped up in the arms of what ifs and maybe nows :|
So long ago (it felt) that I wrote you were “the only one”
Then I read it, “ah.” I laughed, “youth” I thought. :|
My mind is now drawn back looking for something it never really found.
But I found myself. :|
Will I lose her if I go back to finding you? :|
If I go back to this unrequited love for you? :|
Will I lose myself if I go back to loving you? :|
|: Fuck. I never stopped loving you. :||
Written August 2018
Tag: Unrequited Love
Training Wheels
I watch as the tires spin.
I watch your face as you grin.
You ride away from me so fast.
Your new ideas seem rash.
But here I am left on the ground
Here I’m left. Not even a sound
Do I make
While you pedal and brake.
I choke on the dust
as I try to choke back the tears.
You left me back
I’m no longer of use after all of these years.
You found your freedom.
What’s left of me is gone.
I coalesce my feelings
Into a box called “healing.”
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Originally written 1-24-17
If you are interested in a musical version of the poem…
Trust Wall
I built this wall.
Brick by brick.
“Yes, yes” I say. “Yes, I trust you.”
Another brick.
Pain, hurt.
Trust is good, “Yes, I trust you”
Here is a brick.
Again? Why should I trust you!?
After what you did? After what you said?
See?! Here. Fine. Here is a brick of trust!
Brick by brick.
“Yes, yes” I say. “Yes, I trust you.”
Another brick.
Pain, hurt.
Trust is good, “Yes, I trust you”
Here is a brick.
Again? Why should I trust you!?
After what you did? After what you said?
See?! Here. Fine. Here is a brick of trust!
It becomes habit.
The wall grows higher.
The pain cuts deeper.
Then. It’s numb.
What is pain? Trust is pain. Pain is trust.
Trust is this stupid wall.
The wall that blocks me from the real you.
I say it’s trust, but now it’s self defense.
What should be a beautiful building?
A stupid wall.
“Walk around it!” you say.
“No” I reply. “I am trying to trust.”
But real trust is safety. Real trust is two sided.
Real trust builds a beautiful house.
Not an ugly wall.
The wall grows higher.
The pain cuts deeper.
Then. It’s numb.
What is pain? Trust is pain. Pain is trust.
Trust is this stupid wall.
The wall that blocks me from the real you.
I say it’s trust, but now it’s self defense.
What should be a beautiful building?
A stupid wall.
“Walk around it!” you say.
“No” I reply. “I am trying to trust.”
But real trust is safety. Real trust is two sided.
Real trust builds a beautiful house.
Not an ugly wall.
So here I sit.
On my wall.
I want to see over it.
I want to see through it.
I want to see what you’ve become past my dusty wall.
But this “trust” built of bricks
blocks me from you
Under the pretense of helping.
Under the idea of giving you independence.
Under the thought you have a better plan.
Under the pretense of helping.
Under the idea of giving you independence.
Under the thought you have a better plan.
But trust.
Trust is two.
Trust is an invitation not a fear of rejection.
Trust is where you see the beautiful.
Trust is a hope for the morning.
Trust is a beautiful house. A beautiful home.
Trust is not sorrowful or lonely.
Trust is meant to be beautiful.
Trust is two.
Trust is an invitation not a fear of rejection.
Trust is where you see the beautiful.
Trust is a hope for the morning.
Trust is a beautiful house. A beautiful home.
Trust is not sorrowful or lonely.
Trust is meant to be beautiful.
I can’t take down these bricks, but you can help me.
I can’t undo the words, but we can undo the wall.
Bricks can be used a second time.
So won’t you build with me?
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Originally written June 12, 2016
Lately
Lately, I love the little things
Lately, I can’t ignore them
Lately, I also attempt to scorn them
The smile of friendship starting
The smile of a joke continued
The smile perhaps of misunderstanding?
Misunderstood in the past. Now notwithstanding?
Misunderstood, the fear of it, taking over my planning
Misunderstood because of fear of misunderstanding
Living too far into the future
Living with my fears of bringing my past along
Living cannot happen if I drag this on
Subdued thoughts
Subdued actions
Subdued for too long brings compression
Compression, holding back my heart
Compression, keeping myself from ever giving my heart
Compression, lurking in the corner to explode, implode
Hopes that I have once had, moved on
Hopes that moving on is no longer my forever journey
Hopes that I may rest, that I myself am who I really am
The longing mixed with patience
Patience mixed with fear
Fear mixed with longing
Spinning. Around. Stopping.
The words of my heart
The beats of my heart with
One glance
A tone of voice
My name
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Originally written October 9th, 2017
Probably A Metaphor 