The Trees: A Poem

It was the trees placed in their particular way

That made me notice the house one day

They incased it in an odd u shape

Lingering, creeping, like a crooked face

The house had fallen years ago

The trees stood staring never letting go

Death was in the ground like a poison seeping in

The trees hung like shrouds letting death soak like sin

Life grew around it like a tease in the night

Telling death to come closer to the light

It’s all too eerie to tear it all down

Like a bride never shredding the gown

You stare and you wonder what it’s like for the trees

To let everything they touch cease to be.

Along the highway, on my way to work, a group of trees partially circle a fallen house. Everything around it is dead. It’s the inspiration for this poem.

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Lovers Lost: A Poem

They told me to quit

But I couldn’t

They told me to stop

But I wouldn’t

I said I’d stop

But I couldn’t

I said I’d quit

But I wouldn’t

I love your lips

The sway in your hips

I love your hair

Your skin so fair

I love your eyes

I love it all

But hearts were broken

No words were spoken

The pain too deep

For words to keep

I left in shambles

Too hard to handle

But I see you now

So happy – no frowns

I imagine your laugh

I envision your smile

Though it’s been a while

I can smell your skin

Hear the laugh again

I’ll love to the end

After I love again

I want to stop

But I can’t

I want to quit…

Holding on

I’ll love you till we’re gone

Not your average poem, but this wasn’t your average love. Love isn’t something I’m very familiar with. I fell once. Hard. I never saw it coming. I just knew and my feelings were strong. I’m not good with feelings. The process of processing scares me, so I ran.

Love isn’t a game I’m willing to play so in order to withdraw, I’ll break a heart; including my own.

Regret: A Poem

Hello, readers. I’ve been slacking. My goal was to write a poem everyday. So far, I’ve written five, I think. Last year I wrote four so I’ve upped the ante. But I’m not here to please you. The first line of this poem was to start an actual paragraph; a description. Instead, it started a poem. Enjoy.

I haven’t written in very long.

I’m a sad song

You listen to cry

But then forget

The promise you made

Fills a heart with regret

You listen

You yearn

You cry

You burn

Your deceit is gripping

On a love that’s slipping

Don’t fear what’s gone

Or what’s not been

Fear what’s here

For regret is a sin

A Poem About Suicide

My niece, 14, is proving to be a creative force. She draws, creates, and now she is writing. In one of her classes, they were asked to write a poem. She sent it to me in a form of a picture via text message. I asked if I could post it on my blog for National Poetry Month. She said yes, to my surprise.

Many know my stance on mental health issues and my battle with my own issues. So I am proud to post this. I hope you enjoy. And if you know someone battling with depression, reach out. You may save a life.

You look up to the sky

As you wish you could fly

Like a bird so high

You say you’re trapped in a cage

You’re so full of rage

You just need to start a new page

People say you’re weak

Just a little squeak

Don’t want to speak

We all bleed the same

You toy with life like it’s a game

They’re the ones to blame

Find the help you need

You don’t have to bleed

Listen to the words I heed

Please put down the knife

Just save your life

It’s not so great in the afterlife

You say no one loves you; not true

I’m holding out my arms for you

Just start brand new

I love you ❤

I hope you enjoyed this as much as I do. If you did, push like and let my niece know she is one amazing human being.

Thank you.

Scrambles

I haven’t been feeling my best.

Perhaps I’ll try and rest.

My head is in scrambles

It often rambles

So much to get off my chest.

I want to speak

To tell my story

Gain some glory

But I’m feeling very weak.

Maybe after a while

I’ll gain half a smile

And feel better than my best.

I’ve been spending plenty of quality time with myself. To learn who I am and where I want to be. Often, though, I feel drained. My motivation is lacking. I put off important errands and find myself driving down back roads and unfamiliar highways. My life, like my brain in the poem, is in scrambles. I’m clinging to hope that I will find the answers along my drives.

Day 5: Losing Control

What will I do?

What will I say?

How will I get

Through this day?

My thoughts are spinning

Much too fast

How long will the feeling

Last. It can’t last.

I feel my skin peeling

Please say it’s there

I feeling my head reeling

As I pull out my hair

My heart races faster

As it beats through my chest

My head throbs in conjunction

I wish I could rest

My eyes start to water

My throat starts to shrink

My space is getting smaller

Please help me think

It’s all spinning faster

I’m losing control…

This poem is a look into the mind of someone with anxiety. Often, I deal with panic attacks brought on by PTSD (no, I wasn’t in a war. You can get PTSD from other traumas too).

Lately, I am increasingly overwhelmed and I am triggered more easily. I write to find solace and to bring awareness.

Thank you for reading.

Day 4: One More Year

It’s one more year

Of time well spent

It’s one more year

Of love come and went

It’s one more year

Of hearts being broken

It’s one more year

Of lies unspoken

It’s one more year

Of truths that have torn

It’s more more year

Of friendships reborn

It’s one more year

Of pain set aside

It’s one more year

Of love let to die

It’s one more year

Of memories of past

It’s one more year

Of love meant to last

It’s one more year

Of memories made

It’s one more year

Of memories that fade

It’s one more year

Of all that you do

It’s one more year

Of why we love you

For all that you go through. For all that we see. For all that your heart aches. For all of your smiles. For all of your laughs. For all of your troubles. For all of your generosity. For everything you do.

This poem is for my friend. It’s her birthday today and she deserves a lifetime of happiness.

Day 2: Freedom

I must leave.

I can not stay.

I will return.

But not today.

I need peace.

I need to think.

I need privacy.

Please, some release.

I am not angry.

Don’t be sad.

You’re the best I’ve ever had.

I just need to fly.

To spread my wings.

Please let go.

Let me be free.

I’ll return.

A different me.

Day 2 of a poem a day.

I am currently living at home and the need to be on my own increases. This poem is about telling my mother I need to leave.

A Poem A Day: Only You Can See

It’s April. No surprise there. However it’s National Poetry Month and I am challenging myself to write a poem each day. I did this a couple of years back. So I thought I’d try it again.

My poems are different. They are not structured like the standard poem. However, that’s the beauty of a poem. I hope you enjoy and I hope I can keep to my own promise of a poem a day.

How am I drawn to such a place, such a face.

To see it’s you within.

How am I seen through eyes drawn

To a life filled with sin.

I beckon the answer.

I yearn for its depth.

I only have heartache filled with an answerless death.

How do you see me so cluttered with filth?

How do you know my pain, my guilt?

How do you know in an instant I need to be set free?

How is it you see me for who I’ve always wanted to be?

This poem is dedicated to a friend who saw me and loves me for everything I am. But it is I who always questions why.