Im tired and begging for change

For a life, for a gain

For a reason to say your name

But my hands are sinched

From sitting in this same chair

Whispering this same prayer

Half a million times

The flames cant burn here

Ashes cant feed fite

Ive burned my hands

My soul for you

Though youve never done the same

She grazed my fingertips with a curious hand, and I was dumbstruck. Every atom said to return the gesture, but it was as if my cheeks along with the rest of me overheated , I could only speak gibberish and hope to get my point across. I met her eyes and the world was empty. I saw her smile and I was a fearless crow amongst lions. From that moment my world was compromised to her. Such a cliché to fall victim to . With a million words in the English dictionary I cannot describe a soul so utterly pure.

Nature was my goddess, the sun a glowing muse burning up every fiber of my being. Every breath belonged to the trees, every shiver mimicked a chilly breeze and every tear was matched by that of an empathetic sky.

I wonder how that night managed to make it anywhere close to my soul. It had been a while. In any recollection of recent memories, my optimism towards the world was nowhere to be found. Hidden away in whatever moss-covered cavern was tucked away in my head. It was alarming, I had searched for it for many years. Ducking the winds of apathy and trekking the plains of indifference. To no avail I sought out the outlook on the world I was unsure if I was even capable of having. For a billion years in the bitter vain of existence, nothing tasted sweeter to me than a graze with death. A dance with the devil in my mind was all but too common. I found solitude in dark corners I never knew I had. I wanted peace , for everything to stop, for silence , for warmth , for a solution .

I wanted shelter from the bitter war I had started in my head, a coward I ran from the fighting only to find myself lost in the mountain ranges of my mind. I was stranded in a place I thought I knew all too well. In looking for a sense of direction I found east and west indistinguishable, my moral compass lacked a north. Every bridge I found was rotted, every puddle presented me with a reflection unrecognizable to me.

I was scared. I had been wondering for so long I didn’t know if id ever find a way out. In the sky I saw my life, flashing by day after day except it wasn’t me. I was here and the outside world was an atmosphere away. If I were high enough, I could almost feel the other side, but I’d have to keep walking eventually. My feet were tired, and my hands were dirty. I was certain the only way out of my mind was out of existence. I didn’t know where I was going and at that rate I didn’t want to find out.

She blushed

And I was afraid

Not because of her,

I felt the same way,

I loved her

And she loved me,

But others

They hated,

Us

I think about you when it rains,

If only it had been a sunny day

Far less dangerous,

Far less unpredictable,

If roads were less windy

and sleek,

If we would have fixed brakes,

Maybe then

I wouldn't have to think

To see your face

Cause we'd be dancing

In the rain

I sat alongside the sand and looked up at the sky, whose purple face was specked with blemishes of constellations littering her skin. My eyes wondered out on to the horizon, the only thing between us being clear blue-green water that smelled of salt and sea. When I was little, I was taught the horizon was a far as you could see with your bare eye. Its far more them that, and you would be at a disadvantage to think otherwise. You drift to it every time you open your eyes, straining to see as far ahead as you can. You move closer, it gets farther, staying close but ever so tangibly out of reach. I gaze and it inspires me, I stare, and it taunts me for all that I am , all that I was and all I will ever be. In that instance it was beautiful. Her light and his breeze and oh , the dances they did together would make any man cry. I’d never seen anything like it. I was stalky and quiet, if I could find such great amusement in light and water , mother nature must have pitied me greatly. I found myself in the position of wondering whether I was a great king or a great fool. To graze fingertips with forces greater than I, an encounter this intimate is reserved only for harrowed kings or grand jesters.

I might go as far as to say I felt out of place, intruding. A rendezvous between the heavens and their earthly lover that I was not meant to see. Maybe I thought myself to be the intruder when it was him and her who trespassed into my life , raising my expectations for beauty, grace, and elegance. Either way, the bar for any and everything breathtaking was set that night, and I ran with it. It is to be noted I woke up on the beach the next day, very burnt and smelling of fishy sweat, nevertheless the rose-colored spectacles I had been giving were still firmly in place over my eyes. Nature was my goddess, the sun a glowing muse burning up every fiber of my being. Every breath belonged to the trees, every shiver mimicked a chilly breeze and every tear was matched by that of an empathetic sky.

I wonder how that night managed to make it anywhere close to my soul. It had been a while. In any recollection of recent memories my optimism towards the world was nowhere to be found. Hidden away in whatever moss-covered cavern was tucked away in my head. It was alarming, I had searched for it for many years. Ducking the winds of apathy and trekking the plains of indifference . To no avail I sought out the outlook on the world I was unsure if I was even capable of having. For a billion years in the bitter vain of existence nothing tasted sweeter to me than a graze with death. A dance with the devil in my mind was all but to common. I found solitude in dark corners I never knew I had. I wanted peace , for everything to stop, for silence , for warmth , for a solution .

I wanted shelter from the bitter war I had started in my head, a coward I ran from the fighting only to find myself lost in the mountain ranges of my mind. I was stranded in a place I thought I knew all too well. In looking for a sense of direction I found east and west indistinguishable, my moral compass lacked a north . Every bridge I found was rotted, every puddle presented me with a reflection unrecognizable to me. I was scared. I had been wondering for so long I didn’t know if id every find a way out. In the sky I saw my life, flashing by day after day except it wasn’t me. I was here and the outside world was an atmosphere away. If I were high enough, I could almost feel the other side, but I’d have to keep walking eventually. My feet were tired, and my hands were dirty. I was certain the only way out of my mind was out of existence. I didn’t know where I was going and at that rate I didn’t want to find out.

I was almost gone, lost to myself like dust in the wind. But somehow that night something reached in and brought me back to the surface of my conscience. The stars illuminated the abyss I had grown used to staring up at and guided me back. The water washed my hands. The air was spacious , no longer suffocating my every thought. It was as if for the first time since I could remember I was present in my life, not a bystander merely observing. It was a feeling I had grown used to being denied , looking back I don’t know how I lived without it. Presence was never a feeling I thought I craved. From the moment I felt it I was addicted. I wanted it, I needed it, I had to have it.

It wasn’t as to say that I was a different person, I wasn’t. I was still drowning in my thoughts and stifled by my words. But the pitfalls I had were no longer alien ,but overwhelmingly human. I was someone who had just broken the ice, someone who had tapped into an existence they found to be foreign. Everything was new and I embraced the winds of change like it was my oxygen. I was granted a chance at what I saw every time I closed my eyes. The night was still there ,but god ,it was wonderful. Sometimes I fear its too good to be true, that if I look back to far ill be right back where I started.

I learned that my only mistake was thinking I wasn’t worth it. Thinking that the feeling of wanting to waste away was normal. I forgot that I wasn’t responsible for other people’s actions, it wasn’t my job to take responsibility for a crime I didn’t commit, nor did I have to stand by and watch the people I love destroy themselves along with me in the process. I unknowingly became the proctor of testing my breaking point until one day I found myself pushed into the deep end of the Atlantic with no shore in sight. Ill keep saying it until I believe it , the flaws present in the world aren’t of my doing. The scratches etched into mother earth weren’t made by my fingers. I am not a waste. I am not a fool nor a king but blandly human. In the mind of father time I am but someone who was lost. A speck of dust, a static dot in a televised world. I am but a simple creature who longs for love, liberty and life. Transparent yet opaque ; I shatter , lest I am unbreakable. A bullet proof windowpane, a two-sided mirror, a fragile figurine. I am glass. #short #shortstory #story #long #longstory #poetry #new #recent #popular

i like poetry

its a simpler way to put thoughts

a daintier way to put happy things

a harhser way to put spitefull things

a somber way to put say things

straight to the point

yet somehow with the most ,intricet filling details.

poetry

a book within a sentence

a sentence made into a book

Do you still play the piano

Do you still look at the stars

Do the wood panels fall silent under your steps. Lime they used to

. For us.

Do you still like silk

. You used to love silk.

You loved how it looked felt .

how it was , pink.

Do you still like pink baby boy. Oh you used to live pink.

You loved it so much I went out of my way to buy you everything pink.

Oh jack.

I miss you.

I miss ,you.

I miss how every word you said was dripping with emotion ,

cautious yet careless as it dripped off your lips.

Your lips.

I miss your lips

not velvet no smooth,

soft I loved how they express, moved

  , quivered. 

I hated when they did that.

I hated it because I made them do that.

Lips quiver , body shudder, eyes tear up.

I'm sorry ,

I'm sorry.

With careless epithets and hands filled with lust and rage

I hurt you .

I'm sorry .

I miss you.

I miss , you.

Do you still play the piano jack.

Write me  a ballad .

A soft, somber ballad