Reflections of an inner soul rot..
Forced to feed
A strong mutation
Pasts create misinformation
Heading towards an alien nation
Hoping for crash salvation
Like to chart new destinations
A hunter stalking desperation
In the weeds grave creations
Jubilee or tribulation
I can’t seem to get a handle
I’m not sure she’s quite a handful
Pitter patters rain like thunder
And where’s Kendra
Pasts create misinformation
Lost inside inebriation
Forced to feed strange mutation
I’ m tired now I need salvation
where’s my Kendra?…
There are people like us
Dress like us
Look like us
Think like us
Better yet they want to be like us
But they’re not us
They bleed like us with the same red color
But their type is not the same
Their skin is not the same
Could we be the same?
Why can’t they have same hearts?
And not divide into parts
They have hands just like us
Holding each hand by hand
They breathe like us
in the same ozone air, we breathe in
What makes them so special?
They are strong like us
They are brave like us
And they are like us
What’s the difference?
They are humans
People like us
They have heavy hearts like us
Some want to cry with us
Some want to laugh with us
Some want to hate
Most want to love
Why can’t we be in love? Is there love?
Will it ever enough?
Like you and I,
We smile to make our moments worthwhile
Do you see?
People like us
will learn to be who they are
will learn to struggle and strive
will redeem and live again
will learn to love again
They love us,
We love them,
I love them
Anyone who can go through life
Sober, free and clear headed
Without killing themselves or someone else
Deserves a fucking award.
Without the comforting
Tang of wine or whiskey
I would have been
Another basket case,
Born to raise hell
The fucking flames.
Rest in peace to my forgotten ideas
Ideas that may have been genius
Ideas that maybe have gotten me to go somewhere with my dumb fucking life
My dumb broke life
My rich, genius, forgotten ideas
The poor things must be cold
So forgotten, so alone
Maybe someone can save them
Either way none of these ideas really mattered,
They never even existed,
So rest in peace
You will be forgotten
My blog: https://katieandtys.home.blog/
My twitter: @katieistys
The end, like this;
Red colours and sirens
Handcuffs as I walk in
Moving to my cell
I heave a sigh of deep relief
Today my demons won
Tonight my exorcism will be complete
Officers and Wardens
Still unaware of my motive
Yet no rebuke, no chide…
May 11th I let it happen
Tears clogging my throat
That monstrous pain again
Dear Mom and Dad,
I did it.
I pull the trigger,
My Dog is dead!
This pissed off poet’s heart now resides
With the girl of green-blue eyes…
Her hair so blond he can only weep
With visions of it in his sleep
For his daily thoughts encountered doom,
As thoughts of her began to loom,
And cause his obsession it did grow
He bit her neck to let her know!
And she bites back, ain’t that cool?
He’s feeling like a drunken fool,
Falling fast, his brains on fire
Its burning up on Katie’s pyre
The perfect smile the beauty wore,
Shook the poet to his core,
Just a glance would make him moan,
He simply had to take her home!
And although this structure’s not unique
Fuck off with your dull critique,
For the girl of green-blue eyes
Is an angel in a girls disguise
I am a leafless tree.
Green is fading to grey with every day
That turns into minutes
Time is picking up speed and taking off.
I can’t follow,
I am busy counting numbers and pixels.
Absorbed by the monotonous sounds
I don’t raise my head towards the other pair of eyes;
It’s not looking at me anymore.
I see shades of blue directed elsewhere.
Longing for the past,
Reminiscing of the lost,
Of the useless.
The dreary air is crawling into the lungs
And greying me out.
I am pixelating.
Now you can’t tell me from the pixels
That I was so busy counting.
Sweet little girl with a teddy bear,
Standing almost naked on her porch
Eyes blue, perfectly round, large as dinner plates
Glimmering like jewels in the golden morning sun
I approach, smiling, leaning down to meet her eyes,
I ask her how’s life in her little world today
From her mouth comes the sweetest little voice
Telling me I’m a fucking asshole
it’s true what they say you know
those who never speak
have the most to say.
the ones who look the happiest
hold back the most tears.
the most kind and caring people
have experienced the most cruel and horrid things.
sometimes I sit and wonder
what did we do to deserve this pain that gnaws at us with all of its being.
how did we get to this point of sadness that it feels as though we’re lying to every single person we know?
can it ever stop?
because I don’t know if I can smile through it
There is no darkness when we want to see
There is no tiredness when our will wants to continue the road ahead
I have come to realized that years are days
And that a lifetime can be summarized in a short story…
I believed you were the one,
I believed we were meant to be eternal,
But you are just a short story…
You are just a day.
Marisabel Park, 2002