Echoed

Standing here, not a sound is spoken,
Echoes of mixed emotions, now out in the open.
Thoughts racing—most stay silent and hidden,
Lost in the lies each of us given.

The echoes are still here, louder than ever,
Intertwined with wise words, though not the least bit clever.
Though these echoes are out, they are in disguise,
Concealed by truths, and their elaborate lies.
It’s hard to understand meanings behind false words,
Since the truth is never spoken, let alone heard.

What goes around comes back, or so I hear,
Yet I’m still waiting for you, my dear.
The echoes bounce back, haunting me to this very day,
And these echoes, my dear friend, are the things to you I’ll never say.

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For a Moment

We signed our cards with love and kissy faces,
Been through hell and back, braving the darkest of places,
And you got down on your knee, if only for a moment.
Our love produced something beautiful and pure,
And I sat in the bathroom with the fifth test, just to make sure,
I was so scared and anxious, if only for a moment.
Showered with gifts and cards,
Signed with love and best regards,
Everything was perfect, if only for a moment.

The pain in my stomach increases, though everyone said I was okay,
“Never trust the doctors,” my father would say,
I watched the crimson trail fall down my leg, if only for a moment.
Fifteen hours of labor, I hear everyone’s cries and gasps, expect for one
I imagined this moment with smiles and laughter, but there are none,
The silence was deafening, if only for a moment.
They wrap him in blue, as if nothing is wrong,
“You need to hold your son”, “Be strong”.
All I see is his face, though only for a moment,
And he was beautiful, if only for a moment.

Dream of Fairytales

As a little girl, she heard stories of fairy tales
Of curses broken, true love with beautiful males,
Where it all ends happily, and so she dreams,
Yet none of those fairy tales every turned out the way they seem.

When she was younger, happy ends were always in sight
Evil was defeated, all the wrongs became right,
But in life, it’s hard to define what’s right and whose wrong,
She never fit into those fairy tales, no matter how much she wanted to belong.

Her own fairytales were much darker and bleak,
That good didn’t always seem to defeat,
Princes were slain, their lovers died of broken hearts,
And soon, her own fairytale began missing certain parts.

No more happy endings, though she still holds those dear,
Because her reality holds too much sorrow, too much fear.
She can’t wait for the tales, so she traps them in her head,
Watching them unfold as she dreams in her bed.

Her tales have grown twisted, all tangled and webbed,
As she falls further and further inside her own head.
Trapped in dreams of tales that have yet to come true,
She waits for a Prince Charming, her rescue long overdue.

By now she knows her fairytales are worth more then she’s spending
And they can’t all include love, magic, and a happy ending.
Prince Charming may or may not show,
So she watches life go on, abandoning her fairytales from long ago.

She longs for a life outside this tale— a chance to be redeemed,
But she refuses to wake, so she still hopes, still dreams,
And although her fairytales have grown mangled and obscene,She knows she will find a happy ending, after all, isn’t that a major theme?

Damn you, Poetry

Oh Poetry, the grief you cause me,
The long, countless hours spent trying to compose you.
Do I rhyme my words? Or use alliteration, aligning words from the alphabet to form phrases?
Shall I write about my pain and sorrow, my happiness or my newfound love?
The questions to ask so as to write good poetry, well… kind of.

Damn Poetry, and your condescending ways,
Telling us things that mean one thing, and others that make no sense.
Some poems speak of epic heroes, others of fantastical realms.
And then, there are those that allude to bizarre things, and creepy places.
Though mostly poems are written to get into other’s good graces.

Oh my, sometimes you are ridiculous.
Acting so pretentious while writing about things that no one truly cares about.
Yes, romantics, I’m looking at you.
At least tell a story, something interesting, though not in a complicated way.
But don’t listen to me, for I have nothing intelligent to say.

Damn Poetry, sitting here, trying to write you is hard,
I can’t think of anything to say, let alone write.
So I’ll sit here and bitch about not being able to form a poem,
Instead of actually sitting down, and put intelligent thoughts to paper,
And who knows, maybe I could compose something beautiful and well thought
But for now, I think I’d better not.

me without you

I know I loved you right; I never loved so strongly, so deeply
Maybe that was what drove you away: a feeling too powerful to write off.
But this fire is burning for you still,
And I watch it die slowly as the embers fall from the flames,
Washed away by the tears that fell only from my eyes.

Oh dear, I guess this is now me without you,
A girl stuck in the moment of goodbye,
Left to be found among the broken hearts and smudged ink on the papers,
She could have been something of legend, a tale so powerful that not even time could erase her.
Maybe she still can be, after all, who was she before you?
The answer to that question seems impossible to find now,
But I know I can fall back into bed with my past, you seemed to do it so well.

She was someone who dreamed big, but never acted for fear of waking up.
She was a girl so in love with herself that others called her vain and mocked her confidence, so blinded by the delicate innocence life held.
She was…she is, a girl who is helpless in love with love that it breaks her heart everyday.
She is a hopeless romantic, who is afraid to give herself away fully,
And that fear has created guards and towers of protection stronger enough to keep almost everyone out.
Then you came and she thought, maybe this was her knight,
The boy who would bring her down from the tower and show her romance was not dead,
But this knight proved to be just as cowardly as the court joker,
Slaying just a lizard rather than a dragon.

What’s there left to write about after the broken heart has healed,
When the tears don’t come to me every night?
When I have finally moved on from encompassing thoughts of you,
And my dreams keep me quiet throughout the night.
I guess this is now me without you,
A girl capable of controlling her of thoughts and feelings,
Left to dwell on the blinding beauty life has to offer,
To experience it in its entirety; its good, when its bad, the worse and the magic.
Not left alone in her tower waiting and waiting for a knight to rescue her.

Nightmares & Daydreams

Every night, I’ll whisper the wrongs and rights of the day,
Over analyze the what-if’s and could have been(s),
Regretting the days events as they unfolded in all the wrong ways,
And reaching for the ones that fell in all the right ones,
But that’s the beauty of the day, and night,
For we can always figure out our problems in the dark, lacking in the chaos,
And make them shine with the morning sun, undisturbed by the ghosts of yesterday.
But my daydreams can only amount to so much with the sun outshining them daily,
So they linger in the back of my head, waiting to be felt, embraced and acted on.

You said I shouldn’t talk about my feelings,
Shouldn’t let the horrors of a clouded mind and jaded heart rule me,
But that’s the only way I know how to live,
With rules of the head, too smart,
A heart still emotional despite the aches and breaks,
There’s no one here to save, for I am very much happy with the way I found myself to be
I still haven’t seen it all, as you’ve shown me. And my voice chokes out words of sentiment and devotion that I feel are undeserved.

So every night I whisper the wrongs of the days,
Hoping to find the right among them.
And maybe one day the daydreams and nightmares will come together to give me a piece of Heaven, the one I’ve be after this whole time.
But for now, my clouded mind and jaded heart seem to be my guiding figure in this life, and I can’t seem to find their faults.
So my nights are filled with questions that have no right answer and analysis’ that can’t be concluded,
And that’s okay right now, and will be for as long as I need it to be.

state of mind

You are everything I want, but nothing I’ll actually need,
So while it’s nice to want you, to crave you in ways I’ve never felt,
I know you could never be my everything.
But that’s okay; I’m learning to accept that something’s aren’t always so simple,
And yet, some things are just that. Don’t waste your thoughts on me,
For I’ve already moved onto the next adventure,
And thoughts of wanting you have flown from my head as though they were carried by the wind.

In another life, maybe we could have been more to each other,
But not here, not now, and most certainly not like this,
I’m amazed we never found each other before,
Or maybe we have, we could never know. I suppose that’s fate.

These tests of time have proven far too much for a fragile heart
So quick to latch onto feelings that were never hers,
But she is quick to learn, only tempting the fires because she can, not cause she doesn’t know better.
But that’s okay; she is always eager to learn and discover the things that make this life so tragic and beautiful.
And now she is moving on, to a destined place that only her and the wind that carries her knows,
And thoughts have you are far removed from this state of mind.