OUR ORIGINAL POETRY: Share It Here

The girl in the red shoes

Sitting beside me on the bus

Hummed a little tune

As we rode among clouds of fog

In the murky swamp

Of the night

Her voice squeaked and broke

Over speed bumps and pitfalls

High pitched and timid

The little songbird crooned

And creaked

Like tired worn wheels

Shrapnel

Shrapnel.

That's all that's left

of the wreckage of my soul

broken pieces that

I can't put back.

I guess I'll just

carry on like

nothing ever happened

and hope that it

fixes itself.

trigger warning...sexual implications/heartbreak/grief/pain

Simple.

Versus

Complex.

The simple thing is, you're a guy.

And I'm a woman with holes

that you can fill.

The complex thing is i'm a woman

with varying, unpredictable emotions.

The simple thing is

to you

this is fun.

a game.

something to express relief

let off some steam.

The complex thing is

to me

it's more than just fun

it's penance

it's a desperate attempt at reconciliation

so that you love me again.

The simple thing is

you told me

that you cant

you dont want to forgive me.

You cant love me

you dont want to love me.

You just like me.

You

have honestly

told me

what is your truth.

You told me

that there is something special

but nothing serious

because my complexities

stress you out.

The complex thing is

I have an unrelentless desire

to hope

because

i still love you.

The simple thing is...

you just don't...anymore.

I'm just comfortable.

With good days, that make you love me

but if i go too much

you're sick of me.

The complex thing is

I think your opinion of me can change.

The simple thing is you wont.

The complex thing is i think I have a shot.

Or I'm staying just so I dont see you flirting with other women (not like i'll know since i never see your facebook or the possible other women you talk to)

The simple thing is

I keep accepting this treatment, because i think i deserve it.

for hurting you.

because of my past.

The complex thing is

you actually think i deserve this too

with your merciless entitlement.

And your selfishness to keep me, same as mine.

The simple thing is

I could just let it go and take the fun too.

The complex thing is

I can't. Because I still love you.

This is a poem I wrote when my therapist gave me the prompt to write something about being the mother of a child who self harms (In the child's point of view)

You may say you understand

but I know that you don't.

You don't know what I do

when I'm behind closed doors.

You say you've felt this same way

especially at my age.

But mama, we're different.

You don't understand my pain.

You don't hear my dark thoughts

when I fall apart in bed.

But thankfully sleep is a cousin of death.

I'm alone in my room

pretending this bed is my tomb.

But some nights imagining my metaphorical death

is still not enough to kill these thoughts in my head.

Mama you never saw what was beneath my sleeves,

where scars replaced lovely skin

and blood and blades brought relief.

But I know you won't understand Mama,

so why bother with this?

But wait a minute Mama

are those

scars

on your

wrists?

I wrote this song in the depths of a depression.

"Hard to Maintain"

My body always feels like it's about to die

Blacken my lungs to maintain my mind

Reach for the rhythm, wrist under my thumb

And blow smoke at the insatiable sun

I'm still here I'm still here I'm alright I'm still here I'm alright

(Skipping the second verse for the sake of brevity)

If I love you its in spite of all the fear inside of me

If I stay it's against every impulse I have to leave

My body fights and wants to flee

My mind is tired and tortures me

But i

I still believe

I've never really written anything, and I've discussed with several people if this is even really poetry or not. But I still think this is the most appropiate place to share. Enough excuses for now, here you go:

-->

Im going to tell you a story thats not true,

about how my soul got overwhelmed with darkness.

When the only color I can be, is blue,

and it feels like theres no progress.

I dont remember the last time,

that I could tell you what I like to do.

Where have my passion and spirit gone, Im in my prime,

I dont know how I survived after all Ive been put through.

And this story cant possibly be true and it must all be in my head,

because everyone keeps telling me its easy to get out and I should man up.

But then again, they still have their spirit and I only dread,

life just suck all fluid left out of my cup.

At this point I dont care what the truth is anymore,

Ive dismissed those little steps forward out of the door.

Why cant anyone help me understand,

I know I cant do this alone anymore, I need a helping hand.

But I very much so doubt that someone will reach out,

and if someone does, they wont be able to change anything, no doubt.

I know Ive given up a long time ago, even if I try to convince others I still try,

but dont worry, its not like Ill tell you once I cry.

I know you wouldnt be able to handle the real me, I know, I tried before.

So Ive given you the mildest version of my story you could ask for.

In reality the storys in reality an infinite times more dark, thats being a realist.

But even if I wanted to, words to explain how I really feel dont exist.

I hope this story shows I know what you are going through.

And I promise you Im always here for you if you need someone, youll never have to wait in queue.

If you will ever be the happy person you used to be, I cant say.

But I can assure you I will be there alongside you with a hand on your shoulder, all the way.

So.. where shall we begin?

<--

This was my first love poem, after I had fallen in love with a lass. I hadn't yet refined my style or wording.

I dont know how I should feel.

I dont know what to do.

I dont know if I should be in love

At this age, but its true.

Its not a pleasant feeling;

Full of lots of pain.

But then again, I wouldnt ever

Wish that it would wane.

If you are reading this now

Words of advice, please take.

When youre in love at my age

Your feelings may be fake.

I dont know if this feelings true.

I hope and pray it is.

But then, I dont think I could ever

Live without feeling this

But is this love requited?

Alas, I do not know.

Im praying that it is, even

Though I dont think so.

Where to go from here?

Will it cease or go well?

My answer to that, my reader:

Only time will tell.

-Lucas D.

Your simplicity

clashes with my complexities.

Your simplicity is a straight narrow expresslane.

Narrowing down to the easiest, most convenient solutions.

My complexities sees more than just one lane.

There's an intersection overhead, a detour in the next 3 miles and an exit on the next turn,

there are also interesting distractions to amuse you for the long ride.

You have a racecar with improving engines.

I have a vintage beetle car meant for cruising.

You insist I drive faster, as if that will cure me.

You insist I stop tailgating so that I can focus and drive on my own speed.

So i dont need you anymore, so I get stronger and better...

The painful part is I really DO SEE

what you intend for me.

What YOU DONT SEE is that's not how my car is designed to be.

I need constant repairs and stopovers. I need sentimental affection and kindness.

I'm not all about efficiency,

or popularity

or trends and likes and all that shit.

You keep telling me we're different but all you insist on

is your lane. Your vision, your rules, your ideals.

Without seeing how hard I've been burning all my spare tires for you.

I'm practically rolling onto my rims

and you tell me I'm not doing it right.

Of course not, because I dont go by your design.

Maybe it's time I stop pretending to be like a sleek, sexy, racecar.

Just cruise by the views and take stops for a while...so I enjoy the sunsets

the bright stars

and the sunlight breaking at dawn.

So that I enjoy life

and not worry about my performance.

Trigger warning: depression, suicide, anxiety

I went to therapy

because in one of my dark episodes,

I realized I didn't want to lose you

When you were ready to walk away.

I wanted to save what I can about us,

because this is something

that I never dreamed would happen with you.

This is something

that years of abuse and neglect did to me.

Fears, doubts, feelings of worthlessness,

unexplainable longing for approval and validation.

I saw it in you,

before you completely saw my wounds,

love...adoration...innocence.

Being your first has produced in me

"guilt"

That you cannot understand,

that now

you dont want to understand

out of fear.

Because I've come so far as to project all my pain

onto you.

The walls that went down,

are back up, reinforced, tougher, thicker

while I keep scaling, finding ways to get in, my heart on my sleeve,

only to be shut down, beaten down...

lured, seduced, used

but never forgiven.

Never welcome.

Never again.

I went to therapy

in hopes you see

in hopes you walk with me in this

in hopes that you actually hope too.

But I sense

suspicion, doubt, manipulation

turning me into something you think

I ought to be

someone you think

I should grow up into.

Telling me it's

for my sake.

Without catering to my needs...

I went to therapy

with the wrong hopes.

With the wrong goal.

You stopped loving me,

the moment you let go of my hand

while we were supposed to walk in darkness.

Saying noble things

that I should save myself

that I should not rely on other people.

that I should not need people to help me.

That no man can withstand it.

That I am on my own.

I am in therapy,

because...you dont want me

anymore.

Last Time

Left in the morning

With my hat and a smile

I thank the lord it's possible

That was the last time

Come in from the rain

It's a sunny day

Penny for your thoughts you wanted a dime

That was the last time, last time

(Chorus)

'Cause I remember the last time

A ticket and a kiss and a long goodbye

On a plane flying south

That was the last time

I filled my glass up

Yes I'll drink it down

But I can't be the maker of your dreams

For the last time

It's like telling a story

To a little child

My ear to the phone and I'm shaking my head

For the last time, the last time

(Chorus)

'Cause I remember the last time

A push and a shove and an adios

My damn car won't start

It was the last time

(Solo)

(Middle Eight)

Getting out was easy

Coming back to stay's a trick

Losing my mind was fun

Finding it was a joke

(Breakdown)

Turning my back on you

Turning my back on pain

Turning my back on you

Turning my back on pain

Last time

(Reprise)

End