Tag: Self Reflection

A Happy Reflection

I am finally finding the man I want to be.
It is a feeling so free, to see it with my own eyes
As clear as ice, when it feels so right
That I can at last live life.
I can
Let go of my past and though it will haunt me at times
I know I’ll be fine because
I want me to just
Be happy.

I don’t need to wake up every day with a smile on my face,
Or to be in some eternal happy place
But I’m letting go of my ways and running my own race –
Chasing a dream that is only my own,
Building my own home where I will never be alone
With my demons, now that I have all these reasons
To redeem all the pain, and shame that will fade away.

I’m making myself a solid foundation, and it’s a new sensation
To have this focus on myself, and care about my health
When I didn’t know whether I would make it past my twelfth.
Now I’m twenty-one, and I’m someone that has already gone
Through experiences a-plenty, and even though there are times
When I feel so empty, the sun still shines on me
And I start to bloom, breathe, and open up
Like a flower – get the power to be free,
And become the man I want to be.

Morning Routine

Take my breath
With your hand around my neck,
And cold fingers running down my spine.

I live and die
At your command,
At your hand.

Every morning I try
To walk away
But you always chase

Me endlessly, relentlessly
Till I can’t see
The light ahead of me.

Sad Salesman

I sold a smile with zero commission –
It’s the tale of the sad salesman.
Going door to door
On different shores –
So sure that it would be okay.

It was a day to day basis,
And I stayed on this path –
No matter the waves and phases
That I faced.

But it’s time for a career change
And to change my ways.
So that finally I can reach a place
Where instead of chasing the sun –
And its face,
It will smile down to me
And let me breathe
Freely.

The Red Waters

The emotions crash like waves.

I used to dismiss them
As a coping mechanism –
But now I have jumped off the boat
And I have to keep my head afloat.

Dark waters as far as my eyes can see –
It seems even the stars have left me
And I have to use my energy sparingly
So I can breathe,
But the wounds have started to bleed.

The scars from the past are open
And the waters are turning red
All around, without a sound –
As the blood pours out.

But it is a release – a relief
And I start to believe
I can ride the waves
With this lesser weight,
And find my way.

The Rapids of Life

I’m stuck in the rapids,
Tumbling through the water,
With the occasional moment of rest
When I float with the current
And let it carry me along.
I don’t blame you,
Myself
Or anyone else.

This river that I’ve fallen into
Can never find its peace
And shatters me to pieces
Time after time.
The rope that would pull me out
Stays out of reach,
But maybe that’s for the better.

I need to learn how to swim
And hold my breath;
But at times like these
When it pulls me under
Again and again,
I want to close my eyes
And let go.

A Hair

Written in the morning, at a windy busstop.

I found one of your hairs again,
Clinging desperately to my shirt in the wind.
I remember coming home and finding more
Sticking to my socks because you barely clean your floor;
But they were a part of you
Even when we’d be apart.

I’m going to miss those grumpy groans of yours,
And how your hair would look like loose hay in the morning;
Or those overbearing yawns that sound like a cow just walked into the room.

Every day with you I found something new to love,
Another thing to remember and appreciate.

But now
That chapter has also met its end,
And it’s time for the story to continue.

I pluck the hair off my shirt
And let the wind carry me away.

Eleven O’Clock

It was on that old second-hand pull-out sofa,
That I found myself.
A glass that was emptied too many times, in my hand
And your head on my shoulder.
Melancholic music softly played in the background,
And was only overshadowed by our eleven o’clock breathing.

It was you, me, and the two perfect sinners:
Living in a heaven where we may still cry.

(PS: No longer adding the date to each poem as it’s unnecessary, and was a left-over habit from when this was a daily poetry journal)