Back to Emo poetry? Here I go again.
The Daily Depression I
Just keep moving… Keep moving…
10-17-17
She doesn’t always know how special she is. She doesn’t see herself the way I see her. She doesn’t appreciate compliments. She doesn’t believe their sincerity. She can be neurotic. She can be a bitch. She can be sweet. She can be selfless. She is a basket case. She is an extrovert. She is thoughtless. …
The blank page
I used to look at a blank piece of paper as a boundless escape. An open space for the mind to wander. A field of gaps only life and imagination can fill in. Endless possibilities would reach out to me from the stark white surface, calling to me, asking me to put an end to …
Modern Man
Everything feels so alive tonight The earth is embracing the rain like an old friend Not a hint of wind Not a hint of pain Far away from greed and misfortune Far away from anger and stupidity I stare up into the downpour And part it with my hands like glistening curtains To view upon …
Nothing but.
My words don’t always make sense to people. They don’t quite hear me. Like I’m a song played backwards, my message is there, but needs to be deciphered and heard from another perspective. Scattered faces of confusion. Deaf to me. Depressing and it makes me hold back. But here and there, a look of recognition. …
Out of control.
Confidence comes and goes. Fear comes and goes. But you are always there. Always the same. Don’t forget that, and you won’t be out of character.
Secretly.
I don’t find it hard to write characters. I am everyone I’ve ever written and everyone I have yet to write. All rolled into one. Hundreds of people all fighting for control. From minute to minute I might be five different people. If I didn’t write them away onto the page, into existence, I wouldn’t …
I live under a sky, full of Angels.
Life doesn’t always make sense to me. I wish it was more like a movie sometimes. So when you feel the music rise you’d know it’s time to act. But there is no music, but what you make yourself and it can only be heard by those around you. You are always lost to your …
Once upon a time:
There was a young boy, from a far away land. he made his living, with slight of hand. Stealing from pockets, and houses and all things than held cash. Sometimes he was super smooth… Other time’s he’d grab and dash. He was good at what he did, and never got caught. He never forgot anything …