I’m writing this here because I think it’s important and worth sharing. These are some of my poetry pieces I penned quite a while ago. They’re pretty intense, but there was a lot going on at that point in my life. Just know before you read through them that it’s not how I feel NOW, I’m just sharing them now because I’ve found them. 🙂
The Edge of Insanity
The roseblood conspiracy,
How do you cope with feeling,
Your mind shattering?
Crazy, or intuitive?
Slave to Irony, all her
Folly and woes
Falling off the edge of insanity.
Trapped in the swirling vortex of mediocrity.
Am I holding on too tight?
Trying too hard to reach a goal not meant for me?
Resisting subconsciously the path set before me
Because my mental capacity is not enough
To comprehend what my true purpose
In this forsaken place is?
Awaken this sleeping passion in my soul.
As softly as the cool midnight rain
The power to play my heartstrings
Lays bound in your hands.
Sweet internal rhythm pulsing,
Waxing, waning, swelling, churning
Burst forth with the pale orange glow
In the ocean of an apocalyptic dawn.
Can you feel it?
I’m alive again.
Memories fade, scars heal
Leaving behind their tumultus reminders
Of things less than beautiful
Sitting in silence, as the autumn wind blows
Listlessly through the tree tops
Words spill forth onto this page.
A storm is on the horizon.
The black bulbous clouds
Billowing in from their journeys across the plains
A cleansing, new beginning is riding
Those menacing clouds
Brought forth only through this
Purging voilence, and distruction.
The sky glows orange in anticipation.
This little gem has survived in a random folder allllllllll the way from 2001. It was my final English project in 7th grade. TAKE THAT PEOPLE WHO THINK I’M MAKING THIS WHOLE PTSD THING UP FOR ATTENTION.
When you know more than you should,
It seldom works out for good.
People can’t understand
Your visions of far away lands.
In life, nowhere going.
So much in your head
That cannot be read
Thoughts on one thing
Eyes on another
You listen and understand
But you’ll never have a firm hand on people.
Mind so retaining,
Yet no friends are you gaining.
You see past the surface of all,
Good or bad
You’ll make the call
Different in ways people don’t understand
The person inside
Always will you try to hide
Because of misinterpretation
You must start your own operation
Insist you care not
Emotions are nothing more than frustration
Every tear that is shed
All blood that is bled
Is pure frustration