What I carry is insignificant,
What it means to you doesn’t matter.
Why it falls and on this wall makes a splatter?
This is my burden to carry,
I am the one who swallows this bullet, not you.
I am my own ego-death and then I’m not.
Yes I realize
______________I am not among the few.
I am my own and alone.
I am half of a whole and never lonely.
I didn’t ask for your help.
_____________(I don’t need fixing)
Just love me.
_____________Because I love you.
Posted in Personal
Tagged alone, bullet, burden, carry, half, help, individual, lonely, love, poem, poetry, swallow, whole
I am the only one here
It is obvious others have gone on before me,
I’m sure more will follow.
I am alone.
However a lonely lie I do repeat
You cannot convince me otherwise.
And upon climbing back up from the valley
The echo of a lonely lie calls back from afar.
The path is barren.
I descend into fog for fear of reaching the summit.
Posted in Personal
Tagged alone, barren, call, echo, Fall, lie, lonely, path, poem, poetry, summit, valley
Waters carry me past winter,
Here allow me to sleep.
With no veil, these tired eyes pried open
Then forced closed on what they keep.
If we see nightmares in the day,
Are we really asleep?
Floating through what I once thought to be a stream,
Shocked to learn it a river,
What I thought was spring,
Really was the end of summer.
My eyes closed, am I alone in this stream?
Maybe yes. I’ll continue to dream.
She is awoken by voices,
She is alone.
In a strange place
She calls home.
Echoing off the walls,
In the midst of silence found,
They who have no name,
Each of their words resound.
She hates the silence,
It’s when they are so loud.
Whatever noise she can make
To ward off absent sound.
There is a voice she fears above most,
The one who, from the silence, boasts.
She hates his persistence.
She is insistent that he leave.
She fails and fails and fails again.
Any other voice from the din!
The many shout at her,
She does not give in.
But the one quietly calls,
From behind a door that’s cracked open
When the others leave.
He calls to her, her fears.
Things forgotten from across the years,
And then she remembers why
They were pushed aside.
Then in her heart
She deeply wishes the voices to depart.
And she hears
So softly in her ear,
“You will believe us absent, asleep,
You will rejoice in your soul deep.
You will forget what I tell you now
And you will remember each time we return our sound
You, in your fear, may not belong,
And we will never truly be gone.”
She closed her eyes,
And awoke alone; or so she was told.
She rose to the window,
And thought the sun too bright to be this cold.
Posted in From the shadows
Tagged alone, awoke, bright, cold, echo, fear, forget, gone, hate, home, loud, place, poem, poetry, remember, resound, silence, sleep, soul, sun, voice, window, words