Poem: Not understood

I WISH I HAD WORDS

I’D DESCRIBE THE FEAR
                               EMPTINESS

BUT YOU WEREN’T THERE

    your words
         your words

you’ll never understand

in this, i am alone
with no proof now
my palms are empty
not one grain of sand left to fall

just a memory
         and vocal cords that can speak and sing
         and fingers with which to type
         and a hand with which to draw

it would take a great deal of time and tearing open of old scars
to explain this to you

— innerdragon

Poem: Happy Father’s Day

I don’t want to be apart from those I love
Any longer.
Homesickness comes in waves
They spread in and expand
The foam pops and crackles.

I don’t want to live away from those I love
Anymore.

I MISS you. I’ve been missing you too much
For days
The feeling has been hard to bear.

To clarify, I’ve been on an emotional
Rollercoaster
Which gradually inched its way uphill
But fell from the track, straight down
Free fall.

But now you’ve tripped
Stumbled
Fallen
Getting stitches in your swollen lip
And a CAT scan of your head
And few memories,
Again.

And I’m so far away.

I can’t give you a hug.
I can’t spend my every minute of every hour with you.

I want to be with you both again.

Poem: Déjà Vu

Fear reverberates through my bones
An old déjà vu tugs its way toward me.

A feeling. A taste. A sound.
So familiar and yet…

Through soft air and dying leaves, I fall
Spiraling down toward the earth
To cover it in a downy white blanket.

Where is this?
Who am I?



 

Is this hunger?
Will I claw my eyes from their sockets to escape this feeling?
I can’t be here, not after so many years and countries have passed.
The blood runs shallow beneath my skin.

Be careful. The ice is thin and rotten
and nobody will hear your vocalizations
your desperation
Your cry for help.

Poem: Out of time for self

It’s hopeless to compete against you.
I’ve lost my nitch.
Where I belong.

I’m doing well, I’m busy, I’m succeeding.

But where’s the “me” in this?
Do I make time to write? Or photograph (yes)? Draw? Paint? Read? Play music for fun?

It’s been years and the walls are white.
My smile has faded.
Or is fake.

My friends are far away and non-existant.
My folks and my pets live in a bubble too far for me to reach
And surrounded by a field of thorns too thick to breach.

I’m low on energy. I’m low on tolerance. I’m low on income and high on output.

Poem: Searching for meaning

If it comes from the heart,
There must be some truth.
Surely, there must be some truth.

If it comes from the heart,
It must hold some meaning.
Surely, there is some meaning.

Let there be an opening
A crack
From which the liquid can escape.

Let the blister split
And drain.

And heal.

Surely, if it comes from the heart,
There will be healing.

Poem: Speak up

Words elude me
When it’s most important
There is nothing to say
When I must say something.

You do not speak for me
And I must speak for myself
And stand tall
And don’t waiver.

It would be nice to know
My own mind
My own strengths
My own goals.

It would be nice to accomplish
What I want to accomplish
Which is what?

No words. No idea. Just the vague,
Foggy knowledge.
When something is wrong and it’s my turn and the ball’s in my court.

It’s my moment. The spotlight’s on me.
How will I use this next moment…?

If My Life Is Short

If My Life Is Short

If My Life Is Short
…I do not care about proper grammar any more.
…I know I will not be a rocket scientist.
…I know I will not be an astronaut.

If My Life Is Short
…Having enough money for end-times care is vital. It could come quickly.
…Loving the people you’re with is important.
…Having loving people around you is important.

If My Life Is Short
…Donating money to things you believe in is important.
…Volunteering or working for someone else or another cause is important.
…Helping others or the planet in some way is important. It’s all we leave behind.

If My Life Is Short
…I want to write music.
…I want to create objects with my own hands.
…I want to leave something tangible behind, something that means something to someone.

If My Life Is Short
…I don’t need to spend hours a day in the kitchen.
…Perfect organization of my bedroom will not matter.
…Collecting items for personal sentimental reasons will not help others when I’m gone.

Two years with the Accounting? Then on to Programming?
When does the writing Music come in?
One semester of Accounting, plus two courses. That is all I promise myself for now. One semester, with a vocal course alongside. Music, Art, Psychology and Science. There is no time for everything. Accounting first. Income is important. Then the rest.