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Posts Tagged ‘sadness’

Holding too tightly
To all that is gone
My lungs filled with silence
Heart no longer strong

The smoke blocks my path
Your face all I see
Your hand tight in mine
A lock with no key

Pulling me under
Right into the ground
Crushing my demons
Screams with no sound

Exploding in silence
Every breath filled with smog
Each grasp leads to slipping
Fading into the fog

And I lay in silence
While whispers surround
Within the dark shadows
Slowly I drown

~~

I don’t feel like me. The me that didn’t care what she looked like or who she hung out with or how she acted. The me that didn’t compare herself to every girl that walked by her. The me that just loved life and loved to write and her poetry meant everything to her. I want to be the me who didn’t doubt everything she did because people told her that she was crazy. I know that I’m insane and that sometimes I don’t make sense but you’re supposed to love the crazy in me. I used to be so free and so spirited and so strong and I loved that girl, I loved the person I was and I never wanted to change.

I never had the self-confidence others did. I was always too shy. But that never meant I wasn’t comfortable in my own skin. Thanks for nothing.

-Pancakebliss

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Sometimes I hear her breathing,
in my dreams,
only to realize,
it’s just her memory.
Held far away from me,
on a string too high to reach.
She dangles, suspended
and begs me, to end it
my pining tears her apart
until I realize,
she was never there from the start.
When I lay with her, beside her
just waiting
she dreamt of, his arms
protecting.
There’s no hope, never was,
and in the end
It’s me who, still has to
pretend .

ahhhh it’s been a while…I felt like posting this poem for some reason, I don’t know why. It was a strange and sudden urge. I just wrote it about 15 minutes ago. It was a strange experiece; I felt like maybe I was possessed for a few minutes by a guy writing down his feelings through me. This poem is in the perspective of a guy still depressed over his girlfriend, and in case you didn’t realize, I am a girl and am not interested in other girls like that, so this poem was something else for me. Not something that would happen to me, but I can still relate to his heartache. It’s a strange kind of empathy, if that makes any sense.

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Tears

My tears well up inside,
then slowly I am drained.
It barely lasts a moment,
never manages to sustain.

It tears me into bits,
and I’m left broken on the floor.
A puddle pools beneath me,
of tears and nothing more.

No one’s there to save me,
to hold me in their arms.
I have to help myself,
protect myself from harm.

I swim in all my tears,
I watch as they just fall.
I accept them as being needed,
why I cried I can’t recall.

I cry over everything, basically. I cry when I’m sad, when I’m angry, when I’m flustered, when I’m confused, when I’m frustrated, even when I’m happy. It’s just stupid really. I guess crying in a way is an outlet for me. And I’m not alone. I know a lot of girls (and maybe some dudes…) who cry over everything as well. It’s just annoying when I’m angry at someone and I start crying and they wonder what’s wrong with me, and it’s hard to show that I’m just so angry at them I’m crying.

By the way my music night went amazingly. I was kind of hoping everything would go wrong and fall apart because I was angry at my teacher, but then he was being nice again and I forgave him so I’m glad that things went well. Except the other trumpet player completely butchered her solo…poor girl. Oh well.

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I was too much of a dreamer, my aunt had always told me. My head was always up in the clouds somewhere and I had better come down quickly if I were to amount to anything.

Her fist came down hard on the kitchen table one morning at breakfast. “That’s it, girl. Your mother didn’t leave this world for you so you could lie around all day and stay in your little fantasy dream bubble.” she spat at me as I shoved a forkful of pancake into my mouth. I stared raptly at my plate as she spoke. “She was stabbed to death in the middle of a forest, trying to protect you. Did you know that, girl? Huh? Did you?”

I clutched my fork tightly in my hand and did all I could not to stab her in the face with it. “Yes, I did.” I hissed quietly. “And my name is not girl, auntie. It’s Angel. My name is Angel.”

My aunt gasped. “How dare you take that tone with me, girl? How dare you?” she bellowed furiously in her husky voice. “I take you in, I give you food, I put clothes on your back, and you have the AUDACITY TO TALK TO ME LIKE THAT?” she leaned forward over the table and was right up in my face. I flinched back and looked away. “You look at me when I talk to you, girl! You look at me!” she grabbed my chin with her fat little fingers and squeezed it hard as she turned my head to face her. Breathing heavily, she slapped me across the face. The pain cut through me as sharp as a scalpel and knocked me off my chair.

I took my face in my hands and started to cry, still lying on the floor. I could hear her above me.

“And after school I want to hear that you’ve done something. Volunteer get a job join a club I don’t care, just do something with your miserable life.” she muttered as she retreated into the living room.

I lay there for a few more minutes, waiting to hear the door open with a groan then quietly click shut, indicating that she had left for work at the restaurant. She was a waitress.

I snorted as I thought, well, it’s not like she amounted to much, either. But if I ever said that out loud I’d be decapitated and left out in the sun to boil and fester. If I ever raised my voice at her she’d stab me in the face, leave me for dead, then make me clean up my own blood.

I slowly pushed myself off the floor and hopped up the stairs to my closet of a room. I packed my books into my tattered backpack and swung it over my shoulders. I went into the bathroom and looked into the mirror. I was wearing a black dress, with a sweater overtop, and black and white stockings underneath. My long black wavy hair was a shock around my face because I looked paler than usual and had dark circles under my eyes.

I hadn’t slept very well the night before because my aunt had been telling me about how great my mother was and what a disappointment I turned out to be. I spent most of the night crying.

I stepped outside into the misty October morning and breathed in the scent of a cloudy day. The sky was an ominous gray and the wind felt pleasant as it blew on my face. I walked down the porch steps and up the sidewalk and away from the red brick house; with its chipped walls and the peeling paint, with the roof that was close to breaking in; and all its other splendours.

I stared up into the cloud covered sky and sighed; wishing life could just stay as peaceful as this moment all the time.

I rushed to my homeroom class because I was running late. The bell rang two seconds after I sat down in my seat and I breathed a sigh of relief. My homeroom teacher was a tyrant who was the male equivalent of my aunt. He also believed that I would amount to nothing.

“Alright class! Pop quiz on yesterday’s lesson.” he said, pulling a stack of papers out from inside his desk.

“What?” I whispered to myself. I let my head fall into my arms on my desk and let out a sigh. I didn’t understand a single thing we did yesterday, I thought.

It’s not as if I didn’t try. I always tried; always. But I was never good at anything. I just couldn’t wrap my head around anything.

He had our quizzes marked by the end of the class and he handed them back. I got 4 out of twenty.

He shook his head reprovingly as he handed me my quiz. “I’m going to have to call your aunt tonight, Angel. You have less than a sixty in this class right now, and half the semester has already gone.”

“But..but I can bring it up, I swear I can. I just have to get everything sorted out and I’ll be fine. You don’t need to bother my aunt with this, right, right?” I asked urgently.

He shook his head. “I think she should be aware of your current situation.” he said firmly and moved on to the next person.

I wanted to call him back. Wanted to tell him what an uproar this one little phone call would cause at my house. But I couldn’t. If I ever talked to him with even a little bit of defiance, he’d have me kicked out of this school.

I let my head fall into my arms again and groaned. I wanted to scream. I wanted to just scream my head off and not care about the repercussions of that liberating yet Earth-shattering scream. But I couldn’t. I knew I couldn’t.

I got home around seven; I spent my afternoon in the library, trying to put off coming home to a fuming aunt. But my pockets were empty and my stomach was grumbling…so…I had no choice.

“ANGEEEEEEEEEEEEL!” she roared as the door shut behind me with an almost inaudible click.

I tentatively stepped into the living room. She was sitting in her torn up recliner, glaring at me, her face twisted with rage. “You want to explain to me why you’re failing English class?” she yelled in a tone so full of rage it struck fear somewhere deep inside me.

I took a trembling step back. “I’m not…I’m not failing.” I muttered, looking at my shoes.

“I can’t hear you girl, SPEAK UP!” she bellowed, pushing roughly off of her chair and standing in front of me with her hands curled into fists.

I stared at those fists with the same fear that my mother must’ve stared at her murderer’s knife with.

My terrified gaze slowly went to her face and I took another trembling step back. “I’m sorry,” I said, my words coming out in a sob. “I’ll do better. I swear I will. Just please, please listen, I will I swear.” I sniffled and started to cry.

“That’s all you’re good for, isn’t it? Crying? It’s the only thing you know how to do!” she spat in my face and pushed me.

I hit the wall with a thud and fell to the floor. I quickly scrambled to my feet and ran for the door. I yanked it open and ran out as fast as I could.

On my way out I tripped over the porch steps. I fell over the five large concrete steps and crashed onto the stone pathway. From there I tumbled into unconsciousness…

I opened my eyes to find that the sky was blocked out by trees. Lush green trees that went on and on as far as the eye can see. The sun behind those trees made the dark green of the leaves glow with a mellow phosphorescence that made me think of hot summer days laying under the sun with a cool refreshing glass of lemonade that had the power to make you feel like if the world ended just then, with you melting under the sun and drinking an ice cold glass of lemonade, that would just be okay.

“Hey sweetie. What’s your name?” someone asked me.

I blinked twice and pushed myself onto my elbows. I was lying in a clearing in the middle of a forest. The thing that talked seemed to be a flower. Standing up on its roots, it was a glistening red flower that was smiling pleasantly at me.

“Angel. My name is Angel.”

The flower laughed. “No it isn’t.” It said with another chuckle. “Not anymore it isn’t.” Then suddenly the ruby red flower started to sprout thorns from its stem and the deep red boiled and shuddered until it turned black. “Not if I say it isn’t.”

I watched with my eyes wide open as it started to make its way toward me.

“And you’ll do what I say, won’t you, girl?” it asked me in a vicious tone. The middle of the flower opened with a terrible ripping sound, revealing long, sharp pointy teeth. “Answer me, girl!” it hissed as it came closer to me.

I started to back away from it, still on my elbows as I hitched in breath to let out a scream. But I couldn’t. Nothing came out of my mouth.

“What do you think you’re trying to do? You want to scream? Did I give you permission to scream? Huh, girl? Tell me, answer me!”

Tears rolled down my cheeks as the scream that was building up inside of me burned. I clutched my throat and started to cough. There was a terrible, bitter taste in my mouth, and then there was blood. There was a lot of blood, and it was all coming out of my mouth.

I was still clutching my throat as my shoulders heaved, and I coughed up some more blood. Then I started to sob. I was sobbing, then coughing. Sobbing, coughing. Sobbing…blood…coughing…the edges of my vision were going black. I looked around me for someone…for something even, to maybe help me, but there was nothing. Even the mutated flower had disappeared. And then, finally, just as the bloody grass was fading into a dull gray, and the lush green trees around me were starting to disappear, the scream that was burning my throat shot out of me like a rocket launch. It was so loud and so raw that it burned my throat even more and I could feel my whole body just going numb because it was in so much pain, but, I didn’t care. I wanted to scream. I needed to scream. That’s all I had ever wanted, that’s all I had ever needed…and as my scream started to die out, I closed my eyes. I was lying on the grass now, in my own blood. There was so much I was almost swimming in it.

But still I smiled. Because I was free. I had been set free. I smiled through my pain; I smiled still as haziness took over my mind…as I slowly drifted into the unknown…as the pain slowly subsided and I felt nothing. I saw nothing. I heard nothing. There was nothing else in the world but me.

And then there was a hand. A hand that was covered in blood. It was reaching out for me. My mind struggled to understand what was going on, and then it did. I had to take it; all I had to do was take the hand. The bloody hand. And so I did. I reached out also, and the bloody hand gripped my hand with a reassuring firmness. Together at last.

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              I touch your grey sweater,

and take in the scent of you.

I throw it on the floor,

and I throw the pictures too.

               I burn the things you left,

the things you left behind;

I should burn myself,

‘cause I was never mine.

                  You pushed me out so fast,

our memories are all gone.

I can’t recall our life;

I could if I were strong.

             You took my strength when you,

threw our life away.

I can barely breathe,

why couldn’t you have stayed?

                I crawl into the fire,

‘cause you left me so bereft.

I glance back at the world,

that you and I both left.

He left you, because in a way you left him. It wasn’t just his fault, it was also yours. He made the move to fix things, but you refuse to move on. You’re holding on too tightly. You need to let him go. It’s not your fault you outgrew him, it’s not his fault he outgrew you. He was mature enough to realize and accept the fact that you two aren’t right for each other anymore. But you’re too deep in denial to see the truth. You feel obligated to commit to your empty relationship, even though you’re both miserable with each other. It’s okay to fall out of love with someone. When you meet your true soul mate, you’ll never have to worry about things like this. But until then… have faith and accept.

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The title of this entry is a line from the song Music Again by Adam Lambert. (In case you were wondering)

So I have a slight fever. 😦 I’m obviously not very happy about it. I think I just get sick when the weather changes too abruptly. I don’t know. Anyways, below is another poem that I wrote. Enjoy! 🙂

Sadness and sorrow,

the reapings of death.

It comes and it gets you,

when you’re lying in bed.

When your whole world turns gloomy,

and life is dismal;

you have to watch out,

’cause you don’t need it at all.

You might think it’s okay,

but soon you’ll find out,

what you thought was correct,

is wrong without a doubt.

You’ll regret it intensely,

when the deed is done,

so please don’t reach out,

I implore you to run.

I don’t think this is one of my best, but the last two lines really reach out and grab me. It kind of pounds me in the gut and I’m like ‘oh’. I’m not sure if that makes any sense, but that’s why I really like this poem. I like poems that can catch me by surprise or poems that have a certain oomph to it.

P.S. I have no name for this poem, so if you have any suggestions then please drop a comment.

P.P.S. Please subscribe to my blog. Please please pleaseeeee and thank you.

P.P.P.S. I like cheeseeeeeeeeee and if you live in the states then vote for Tim Urban to be the next American Idol because he’s hawt and a good entertainer though his voice isn’t as good as the other contestants but he can still sing and I think he would have a good career so PLEASE vote for TIMOTHY URBAN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

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Waves of sadness,

chill you to the bone,

they pull you under,

turn your heart into stone.

They turn your world blue,

after taking you in,

they squeeze and choke you,

until your head spins.

The sky above turns red,

your eyes they roll back,

you float on top of the water,

a soul drifting unattached.

Your cries are unheard,

your essence forgotten,

your memories they fade back,

into the world that brought them.

Your mind starts to vanish,

you are no longer strong.

The waves sweep you away,

and in a whisper you’re gone.

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