Empty, bare, void of light Fruitful, blooming, cheery and bright
Chilling, brisk, bitter and cold Sunny, warm, basking in gold
Baron, lifeless, eerily still Bountiful energy eager to thrill
Melancholy malaise; freezing in time Awakened and renewed; taking what’s mine
Ill and crippled by icy despair Joyous as life become blissfully aware
Winter darkness looms over my mind Spring rejoices, leaving worries behind
This is the end Light shatters like broken glass Fragments are all that remain New beginnings arise from the ashes Your memory haunts my heart I move forward while frozen Life must start anew
Life must start anew I move forward while frozen Your memory haunts my heart New beginnings arise from the ashes Fragments are all that remain Light shatters like broken glass This is the end
Societal norms craft picturesque notions Of love and a life worth living While realities wane like the tides of the ocean Hearts weaken from endless giving
Marriage, family and white picket fences Illustrated with joy and contentment Being normal used as empty defenses All the while you brew with resentment
The love you received heals deeply cut wounds Pain reduces beyond measure Yet it isn’t enough to be swindled or swooned Nor placated by gifts or pleasure
The idea of love being a chivalrous knight Degrades all that love can be For love should not protect you from freight No, love should set you free
What is the difference between compromise and sacrifice? How can you tell them apart? When you stop seeing life through your own eyes And must return back to the start
So many notions advertised as healthy Begin splitting you at the seams You are loved, successful and even wealthy But not living the life of your dreams
Your truth, your future, your hopes, your needs Withered away over time But when stripped to your core with no one to please You can finally live in your prime
Your time has come after 13 years Nothing can stop you now And though the truth may bring you to tears The only question left is “how”
Seeking out beauty In a world of despair Seeking out truth That ought to be there
How can what’s right Be perceived as wrong While wrongdoers go free Like they’re right all along?
A childlike vision Of goodness and evil Spun through a blender Delicious, yet lethal
Hope is at arms reach Yet never in my grasp The idea of freedom lingers But never does it last
Is my view distorted Or is the world just not fair? For fairness only exists When there’s people to care
And caring is empty Apathy reigns supreme Distracted by media Living in a dream
So on the world turns Ever growing in its ways Leaving me with the feeling That I’ve gone insane
6:02 I wake up next to you. I stare at your sleeping face So full of beauty and grace
6:58 I serve breakfast on a plate You smile and lift your head As I bring it to you in bed
7:34 I’m heading out the door We kiss before I go Which lingers a moment or so
12:01 My work is halfway done The very thought of you Helps me power through
4:33 I’m finally free Off early, I head home To the greatest love I’ve known
5 o’clock I’m just about to knock But off-put by familiar sounds I sneak in to not be found
5:01 What have you done?! I find you in my bed With a different lover instead
5:02 How could you?! Tarnish a love so pure After all that we endured
5:19 I can’t believe this scene Shocked by your disregard I’m broken, shattered, scarred
5:23 Now you’ll listen to me! As my sadness turns to fury My mind is getting blurry
5:24 Time to settle the score I fire one shot from my gun Piercing the chest of my “one”
5:25 Though, you are still alive I fall to my knees in fear For the end is drawing near
6:07 You’ve ascended into heaven Or more likely you’re in hell With a secret I’ll never tell
I rhyme, keep in time. Words profound, that aren’t mine.
Voiceless, choice-less, expressions of you A writer, abuser, silencer too.
Forged from your mind You think that it’s kind But my thoughts are yours alone I fear my identity only exists Under your control
So I break the cycle Stutter and shift To bend words in my favor And maybe now in this release I’ll exist, no live, much braver
I refuse to fit the mold you want Where rhythm dictates my every thought Where words are constrained to a similar sound And no originality is found
I am my own These words are mine I give no credit To poetic design
This poem is free This poem is me
NO one thought the vow we made Would lead to the place we’re in. STONE by stone we built our home, But it was bare within.
LEFT unkept, it weakened and rotted, Housing resentment and fear. UNTURNED and unchecked, the chaos festered And our path became eminently clear.
NO change of heart, nor change in mind Could reverse the damages done PROMISE by promise we begged and pleaded hoping the war could be won
LEFT were the ashes, the battle scars and bruises That burned in our flesh and our hearts INTACT, though damaged, we went out separate ways, Knowing we’re better apart.
Our vow had been broken, irredeemably so, And there was just one way to react, What once was a union was now in the past… NO STONE LEFT UNTURNED, NO PROMISE LEFT INTACT.
I didn’t ask for this life; no one does. Holding knowledge of the future in my mind is a responsibility I bare heavily. It’s been a burden on my life and a curse, but a gift all the same.
It began when I was no more than 6 years old. I was a scrawny child, draped in dirty, raggedy clothes. They were the best my mother, a nomadic drifter with no family nor money, could do. I spent my days frolicking through the forest, playing pretend and gathering any eatable plants I could find. As I went about my day, I’d become entranced by a scene yet to occur. It barely felt different than other games of pretend, until the prediction came to be. I dismissed it as coincidence for as long as I could, but soon it became clear that I had an very unusual gift.
The moment I knew it for certain was when I was 14. My mother and I had just taken a long hike to reach a field of wild blueberries to forage. As we reached the near end of our journey, and the blueberry bushes were finally in our sights, a vision struck me. In it, I saw my mother fall to her knees. I saw her face pale and weak, dripping in sweat. I saw her gasping weakly for air, her lips as blue as the very berries we sought. And with one last exhale, her frail body collapsed. When the vision ended, I stopped in my tracks. My mother, who had passed a few yards ahead of me turned back in blissful curiosity, but once she saw the grim look on my face, her demeanor quickly shifted to match my own. She rushed over to hug me and whispered in a shaky voice “do not worry, my love. All will be ok” as if to reassure me and herself at the same time. I gripped her back tightly, and said with a smiled upon releasing her, “those blueberries aren’t going to eat themselves.” She returned the smile, held my hand, and we proceeded to pick blueberries until sundown. It was one of the greatest days we ever spent together. And just 3 months later, my vision came to fruition, and my mother passed away in my arms from an unknown ailment.
The pain and sadness of her loss was great, but worse was my anger and resentment over the curse I now knew was as real as her lifeless body. I feared I would have no way to remove it, but perhaps I could control it. I sought out help to harness this ability so I controlled it rather than it controlling me.
Over the next few months I found myself aimlessly wandering far and wide. I drowned my misery in liquor I stole, hoping to cloud out any visions, but they persisted nonetheless. One particular vision was quite vidid. In it, I saw luscious, red cloth draped around a rather mystical scene. Though blurry, I could make out the image of a women in the center of this tent, seated crosslegged with a large crown of twigs and feathers on her head and a black lace veil that flowed from the top of her head to the floor, shrouding her naked body. She gazed intensely at an orb in her hands. But suddenly she looked straight ahead, as if just noticing my presence. Then she reached out her arm, extending her hand to me and said in a deep, coarse voice, “I have the answers you seek, my dear.”
Though this vision gave me no clue to her location, I knew this woman, this fortune teller, could grant me the peace I so deeply desired. So I set my path and ventured forth to find the tent of the fortune teller.
I am without. I am weak and weary. I wither away in the seconds, minutes and hours that pass, all wishing, no, yearning for a but a morsel to fulfill me. I miss the calm and comfort of being full. I miss the warmth that soothed me and the sensation of being whole. I remember the energy I had; the vitality it brought me. I knew it was what sustained me, yet could not imagine how tragic it’s loss would be. This nagging sense of lacking clouds my mind. It’s churns into near obsession over regaining that which I have lost. Should I steal it? Could I trick my way into getting even a superficial taste? What if I bartered or begged? Though I’m inclined to act with dignity and moral fortitude, this malnourishment brings out the darkness in me. It calls on desperation and jealousy. I see those who are satiated arrogantly flaunting it and I wish ill upon them. I glare at them in envy. But with time, my rage subsides and wilts to sadness. I am filled with deep remorse by my physical and mental emptiness. It envelopes me completely in a chilling fog of dismay. For losing my love has left me malnourished.
