Category Archives: poetry

We all get touched here

I remember when

A day long ago, yet not so far

I looked at her and said “what’s the big deal, what’s she crying about”

Because we all get touched

Why does she get to cry

And get your pity and empathy

When I said it, no one believed me

Or maybe they just didn’t care

So of course I didn’t support her

I mocked her

“Get over it” I thought

We all get touched here

Unwilling and unwanting

They get what they want

So stop crying

“It’s not a big deal”

Because if you hurt, I might need to hurt too

If you cry, I might need to cry too

See, it’s not that I didn’t believe you

Or that I thought you shouldn’t hurt

It’s that it hurts to bad to recognize what happens

To recognize how it feels

It’s easier to be cold

And numb

And “get over it”

Although we never will

#metoo

Have you noticed..

What is my obsession with time
Every moment tracked and monitored
I keep tabs on myself
Not to waste this oh so precious time
But am I not wasting it by tracking it?
A moment passes with each glance towards a clock
An hour passed as I scribbled my schedule
What is my obsession with time
This illusion we share
It controls me as I attempt to control it

Meaningless

It doesn’t matter
Doesn’t matter
Isn’t that what you told me
So why are you angry
Your the one that told me
So what if I’m in love
Isn’t it all meaningless
Tell me what want
Maybe we can make it right
Weren’t you the one that told me
It doesn’t matter
Doesn’t matter
Everything you say tonight is a contradiction
So just tell me what you want
Maybe we can make it right
Cuz all I want to feel
Is in love tonight
It doesn’t matter
Doesn’t matter

My oldest foe

Bring to me my soul, dear heart ache. Where have you hidden me under this heart break. I wish to find me, so heartache reveal all you know. After all, you are my oldest foe. What have you learned, holding me close? You must show, for it is I that I do not know. Heart ache, familiar enemy, tell me where you’ve hidden me.

To remain broken

And maybe the world just needs me to be heart broken. Maybe I am doomed to feel all the love possible, and feel it ripped from my chest. After all, I’m different when I’m heart broken. My mind explodes. Creativity, hope, passion pours out of me. Out of the broken pieces. I am fearless. I am reckless. Nothing can hurt you when you cannot feel. But just before I go numb. I feel everything. I feel guilt. I feel his pain. I mourn him. I desire him. My chest shrinks, constricting my lungs. Taking my breath. It’s unbearable. I feel too deeply. So I turn it off. It becomes so much, it hurts so badly, I just stop feeling. Maybe I must always be broken. And as I am numb, a new love saves me and again breaks me. A cycle of love, heart ache, and emptiness. Maybe the world needs me to remain broken.