I do not know how you view me
as a warrior,
for I am nothing but my own enemy.
you call me strong,
strong enough to defeat my foes.
you tell me to stand tall,
when I measure only 5’1, head to toes.
I am determined to live up the image
you see me to be.
so I’m climbing to the pedestal
of what you view of me.
is this what being strong means?
if I manage keep the thoughts out
during the day,
they come rushing out at night,
bearing the gift of tears.
they say that it gets easier from here.
I’m not sure I believe them.
with over a year of clean wrists,
you’d think I’d have a better hold
on this situation.
behind a mask of composure,
my insides are trying to leak from my
scars, trying to push out from my skin,
trying to escape.
and I want to aid them.
when a thought is born from
a diseased mind, it then
snakes down your spine,
sending chills like wildfire,
aches your scars.
I’m a hard person to love.
her voice rang through my memory like
church bells, and for once, I wanted
to be religious. I wanted her to be
my savior- to pardon my sins.
I wanted her to see me like the way
she said God saw her. I only wish she
knew that I viewed her as her own
virgin Mary. I didnt care about her past.
I didnt care about her sins.
I only wish she knew that I
loved her- and my love isnt anything
God could achieve.
I want to tell you that
the road to happiness wasn’t
paved with gold.
It isn’t a cracked, but
okay for the most part, street.
The path to happiness is a long,
uphill stretch of blood and bones
and set backs.
You will reach a part in your recovery
where there is no way to jump
over this trench layed out infront of you.
I will tell you that if you fall,
even multiple times,
you’ll learn the ropes,
and this get easier.
but as long as you try,
I gaurentee you’ll beat this.
sometimes I wish
I could meet everyone again.
when you’ve known someone for so long,
you forget how they looked when
you were strangers.
I want to meet you for the first time-
so I could fall in love with you,
all over again.
I saw galaxies in your eyes-
and I studied those
my telescope broke.
instead of looking to the sky
for my answers,
I looked into your eyes
for my hope.
I went through my days with anticipation
I dreamt of those galaxies and nebulas
until I got to see more of those
but the lights on your eyes have left
I don’t know where they could’ve gone.
your galaxy is dying,
and what a toll it had taken
for your eyes will soon be shut for good…
so I’ve decided that soon, (as soon as I can find my floor and desk under my stuff) I will be making a YouTube channel of myself reading my poems the way I intended them to sound. reading a poem is beautiful but hearing it be said in the writer’s with his or her tone is really something else. I’ll keep you guys posted!
paint me a picture of how
you view the world.
I want to see how vividly you
can see rainbows.