Purify the wounds Sting through my limbs The breath stealing pain Of all my sins Part the curtains Bring down the light Mix water with salt On the table of the night The moon is pale and hungry I can hear her martyr's voice She sings the words to hymns Once carved upon the bread Broken into pieces Scattered for the birds Pigeons who survive Among the screams And the thirst Her song is like a knife Buried in my face The blood runs for All the winged babies Who grow to meet the night The table salted with stars And the moon's hungry light Purify my wounds Peal through my veins Take my breath and give it To the bread The broken The end
Sometimes Sometimes When I'm sitting alone I feel hopeless. That there is no body around No one to say hi No one to say bye No one But me. I'm alone and I love it. I'm alone and I hate it. I tuck myself away in the prison cells that are my deepest thoughts. It's dark in here I think out loud. It's dark in here But the lights are on, I say. It's dark in here The fire in my heart must have burned out. Cold I sit Without the means to love. Cold I sit Without anyone to warm me. Cold I sit Without the means to care that my extremities have gone numb from chills. I shake. I curl up into a ball of insecurity. Waiting to be burst open by the slightest touch of insult. There on my bedside table Lies the tool of the poet. It has been used recently. It's ink still shining like a red rose on the blade. The poet frowns as his canvas Once paper Now his wrist Flows with his newest work of art One poetic line Symbolizing how easily life is given How easily life is taken. Sometimes When I'm sitting alone I feel useless. That I am a hindrance to all. Get out of the way Shut up Go back to your room Why don't you help more You never finish anything They say. They can't be right. I am useful. I must make someone happy I must be a positive influence to something. But maybe I don't. Sometimes When I sit alone I think to myself What if I weren't here In this house On this continent Or in this world. Where would I be? Should I find my final resting place In heaven? In hell? Or will I find myself lost in the long history of nobodies that did nobody things. Sometimes When I sit alone I believe. I believe what they say I believe my thoughts I believe the injustice of this cruel reality Sometimes When I sit alone I fail to see that this world The one we live in Is changing For the better I'm not sure For the worse I fear too quickly Sometimes When I'm sitting alone I fail to see the beauty that darkness brings For in darkness your light shines vibrantly. I was introduced to your shining eyes. Sometimes became never. For I am never alone In darkness nor in light.
Its basically giving everyone a chance to write their feelings in a poetry form. Kinda like how artist use music to talk about their feelings and tell their story.
Because I guess might as well post a somewhat more positive poem. Dreams It can be achieved. It cannot be achieved. It is attainable. It is unattainable. It will happen. It will not happen. It will not fail. It will fail. I will fail. I will not fail. I will not make it happen. I will make it happen. I will not attain it. I will attain it. I will achieve it. I will not achieve it. Perfection. Such an easy word. It rolls off my lips...perfectly. So beautiful I almost believe. Believe that it's possible. Believe that it will happen. That I will achieve perfection. The perfection that is promised. Promised by those who believe in me. But they believe in me Under the assumption that I am perfect. And perfect I am not. Never will I be perfect. I try To no avail. I pray To no one. And no one answers back. Answers with a resounding slap Spinning me out of the dream That said one day I could be perfect. I aim for perfection, Because aiming for the moon isn't good enough. I aim for perfection, Because that is the only way I could possibly deserve you. But I am not perfect. Never will I be perfect. Never will I deserve you. We can be achieved We are attainable We will happen We will not fail We are perfection.
For All The Trees Who Lose Their Leaves What does it feel like when all your words are wrong? It is like a tree trying to be tall Every sound blows off a leaf Until it is bare And not really there So it waits And regrows Stand tall in their big glen With that sappy grin again The second time is sometimes worst The effort of trying again and again How many time do you let yourself be hurt How many times until it works The seasons are always fall The regrowth comes to a crawl You remain bare Pretend the breeze is not there Eventually you know your fruit is rotten Your flowers not sought after You grow back more than gouged bark Because the future is stark And you stand alone in your forest Small and deeply rooted Invisible to the other trees And from the breeze You always are rejected And were so unprotected So keep your head down And eventually your branches will stay full
Oh why the hell not. Here goes nothing: It feels as though my conscience leaks, For every thought that passes by Another thought inside my mind Finds another way to die. Keeping faith is hard to sell, If only I could leave as well.
Not necessarily. It could also be considered as a form of escapism rather than suicidal. However, art allows different forms of interpretation. Each to his own
The horizon meets my line of vision. I sigh and try to eye... thy who could guide my wisdom. I ask em to give my mind a listen Looking across the earths surface at those trying to find a purpose. Searching for tranquility, with all my ability, to find a place with no disturbance. Hold my piece... before I'd ever hold my peace for me to to speak so many peeps became deceased. It's time to rise up. I know I'm strong. I'm one of the survivors. So many good souls lost are still buried deep inside us. My pride clutched... forbidden to claim what was promised. Sick of the process. Categorize us guys as monstas. While all day behind closed doors they idolize. See my likeness and refuse to compromise... There no comparison because in broad daylight there's nowhere that I can hide... If I did desire. Say we're the same again Reply: I'm not a liar. The barriers are broken? Some say that I'm the chosen I say nothing when they do... Some things are best left unspoken. I inhaled and watched the sun dance across the ocean. Never worried about floating. Smiling down on everyone hoping; But showing no emotion. I envy that point of view... I wonder if the Sun feels sadness Watching earth's madness Believes that our world is savage. ...And just keeps its distance Feigning indifference... Waiting with open arms If our world would ask it for forgiveness If it would accept... My eyes blur because of the depth. So I captured the experience before I'd forget. I was not made to understand so what could I expect. So I did what came naturally and took the next breath. Stole another glance so that its beauty knows my respect. I thanked my creator for its time before I took the next step.