I know you didn’t mean to leave me the way you did.
I believe you,
Even though it seems so strange
To believe anything you say,
As your voice still remains silent in your grave.
Hopeful Inspiration
Let go of the fear and sorrow,
For a tomorrow you haven’t seen.
Today isn’t even guaranteed.
Take it easy.
Breathe.
You don’t have to use every minute,
Or feel like you’re not in it
If you take your time for a moment.
You don’t have to be your own worst opponent,
You can make it work.
After all, you are you,
And you are not the worst.
You are a beautiful mess
And this is just another test.
You’ve got this.
Every Time
I die on the inside every time I decide to leave someone behind.
Or when I lay to rest the plans we never had,
Or the memories we never made
In a future that we will never see
Together.
Together was all we had,
And I find myself here at the end
Of it all, struggling to stand tall
And raise my head high.
Because every goodbye kills me,
And I die every day, afraid
Of the next one to go away.
I’m so fine with it, sometimes,
Somehow, but then there are times
When I’m drowning in the deep depths
Of despair, where the air
Escapes my lungs
And leaves me behind.
Painful Peace
I wonder if you’ll listen
When I rip out my hair.
Or if I jump off a chair
In a peculiar fit of despair –
Or a fit of frustration
(A most horrible sensation),
That would normally be repressed,
And left unsaid in the depths
Of the River Lethe,
Where no one could see me
Drowning in the misery.
Should I then keep it a mystery?
Or should I break our reality
Into pieces, so that we’ll find ourselves
In the painful peace of the present.
But, oh, it’s been my role for an eternity:
The “keeper of peace” –
Why should it be me?
Why should I not feel angry?
Should I not learn from my history?
Even if I can’t see what is ahead of me?
I never asked for my past.
But if I do not learn from my history,
This life will be the death of me.
Sisyphus and I
Sometimes you try,
Try,
And try,
To climb,
Climb,
And climb,
Up, up,
And up
The hill
Just to reach the summit
And plummet,
Down the other side
And cry,
Cry,
Cry and die.
Maybe you learn something from it
For the next time
You feel alive.
Poetry in the Pattern
Mirror, mirror, on the wall,
You did not survive the fall.
There was something – a sound,
And you now lay, in pieces, on the ground
Shattered, in this dusty downstairs bathroom,
The same as the others that left too soon.
Hey friend
There you are, smiling brightly in the dark sky –
Looking down on me with a million uncaring eyes.
Your brother might be blindly blinding,
But at least he gives me life.
When he’s up there, all your eyes are closed
Since you need your rest too, I suppose.
If I died while you were gone, would you still be smiling?
You probably wouldn’t even notice,
Even though I greeted you a thousand times.
Use Me
Give me all the good, all the bad.
I don’t care if you’re sad
Or if you will drown me in your sorrows.
Use me as you like
Before someone else might.
Orion Still Calls Me
It’s been years since I last saw the sea.
I can still hear the waves,
And feel the wind on my skin.
Oh, it’s a sin, a wrong,
But the waters still call my name.
I still listen and look to the stars,
As if seeing that constellation
Will be any consolation
For the absence of my home.
I’m just trying to sleep, cmon brain
All that’s left unsaid
Runs in circles through my head –
Keeping me awake
So that there is no end to this day.
I just want my rest
But here I lay
And here I Iie
To myself, and tell me
It’s all for the best.