I am not always gentle and soft. When anger fills me, I don’t just rain, I storm and cause ruins. I strike every tree and thunder ever so loudly. I go on a rampage. But then, after the storm is gone, it starts to rain lightly, and sadness fills the atmosphere after rage.
Written October 25,2020
I am what they would call, a “simp”,
Despite the negative connotations it’s far better than being a pimp,
My heart has so much love to give and distribute,
But without regards to any negative opinions, I continue,
See life is too short to not want go out of your way for someone who deserves it,
I’ve always wanted to live my life with a sense of purpose,
What is it to be a simp? I’ll tell you my definition,
It’s to love someone no matter what without focusing on conditions,
It’s not unrequited love. At least not to me,
It’s my willingness to be with you and live out our dreams,
It’s supporting you when you fall on hard times,
But some see it as desperate or lack of a spine,
Well go on and live your life pestering hate in your heart,
Because living the only life you have in bitterness is far from what is smart,
I’m prepared to find someone and no longer be single,
Because loving me things will always be simple.
The flavor of your lips ripe and noble.
Soft pastel shades highlight you in morning blossom.
The laying of your hands on my body , hooking a necklace , moving a loose curl behind my ear ,makes me wanna stay.
I can feel you watching me get dressed and put on lipstick.
i just thought
we could be a thing. a real thing. a forever thing.
well, that forever didn’t last long
You know, we spend so much of our lives not saying the things we want to say, the things we should say.
They say you only
know what it’s like to
feel alive when
you are kissing Death.
I guess that explains
why all poets
seem to be drowning
in their sorrows.
Z.
I do not like being touched
You have to ask permission, I teach my son’s
They ask, yet I have to say no
It fissures my heart; my skin cannot bear it
I do not like being touched
Sometimes, too often, everything is too loud
The quiet chorus on music on your phone
Overridden by the obnoxious YouTubers on his tablet
Mixed in with the incessant arguing
I am staring at you to save me
I am drowning in depths I do not understand
There is nothing to hold onto
I do not like being touched
How do you save someone’s mind
how
do
you
save
me
i learned to love myself
it was tough at first
but later
i fell in love with myself
slowly,gracefully
and after i learned to love myself
that’s when i knew that now
i can let someone love me as well
that’s when i knew that i can love
someone other than myself as well
and i don’t need to be messy drunk
to know that i’m in love
i know that when i make him a cup of coffee
when i’m about to sleep and he kisses me
before i doze off
when we walk through the cornfields at night
“Memory is the diary we all carry about with us.”
~Oscar Wilde
Our memories create the substance of our identity. People who lose their memory lose any sense of who they are. Some of us have memories of painful events in our childhood, or of traumas that changed our image of ourselves. Those of us who were abused by parents have to learn in adulthood to fill those gaps by becoming good parents to ourselves. Some of us have become trapped at a younger stage of development by
painful memories. Now, it is essential to our healing that we not perpetuate our own abuse.
We have to learn to include ourselves in the human family. No matter what we experienced, no matter what we feel, it is all part of what it means to be human. We can heal our memories, not by changing them, but by making peace with them so we are free to live in the present. A man can imagine the little boy he once was—and imagine taking that youngster on his lap and promising him that he will take care of him and keep him safe.
Today, I will be a good parent to myself and treat myself with love and respect.
It is a matter of what tick or tock of the clock will ding the dong of the madness song. ~ Maeve
This home is on fire
you’re my main desire, I love you
but i need to run away, can i?
I hate myself for loving you,
I crave your soul,
I love you so much that even if I we’re not together I’d die to see you smile.
I feel free with you,
nobody makes me smile like you do
I want your kisses and I want to be with you;
I’m afraid and it’s killing me, for they won’t ever leave me
they are torturing me for loving you,
They don’t ever want to see me happy.
Save me from this, let me feel you
i fucking love you.
The storage shed door creeks
It hasn’t been open much
Life’s old memories
Don’t need much with that stuff
Found some old Halloween decorations
Haven’t used them for many years
But with this crazy 2020
It seems Halloween needs some flare
So we get out the old Skelton
And the spider webs they cling
We haunt our make shift castle
With old memories unseen
This Holiday lacks horror
The year has been scary enough
We will make it though with costumes
And we will forget the year’s been rough
Family is what we live for now
And hope is all we have
The haunts don’t scare us
We have seen worse in real life
You sit atop the ladder
And becon me to climb
I feel your voice scatter
And I yield to your sublime
Each rung presents a challenge
The risk that you will flee
I want to be as good as I can manage
So you’ll say yes to be with me
My past mistakes fall
Down the rungs they go
I’m made up of those walls
That set back my path’s flow
Each one made me better
Taught me to climb over life’s trash
Prepared me for this ladder
I see your face and my climb goes fast
I’m not so good at banter
But I’ll be true to you
When I reach you atop this ladder
I think it’s a genuine talent of mine to make things borning and mundane into something sad and romantic 🤍
An elegy to my goals and dreams:
“I didn’t also want to just sit idly by
Just because I know how to cry;
But then, I also know how to let out a weak sigh
And to accept that my scapulas can’t handle what it means to fly.”
He’s laying in my arms
I’m kissing him
There’s darkness creeping around the corner
But I have a moon in my hands
