Poetry Blogs (2019, abandoned)
because my muse
abandoned me again.
Maybe to teach me
about leaning on him,
instead of mining inspiration
from deep within.
is perhaps the greatest sin.
It is a game no one wins.
So, back to the blank page I go.
Just me and my pen.
Friday 11th October 2019 3:40 pm
I’m losing my mind.
Don’t you understand?
I’m desperately reaching out for your hand.
Don’t leave me hanging, slipping, falling…
down into the endless abyss of darkness,
Never destined to land.
You’ve saved me once before,
But this time there are no safety ropes.
I’m free-falling, plummeting, going down…
My only hope Is for you to save me now.
I’m losing my ...
Monday 18th June 2018 2:59 pm
They see me
Without a word
Through the sea white mist
Slow silent slip away
They see me
An empty vessel
Adrift from my moorings
Fading to the horizon
To move, like night, from sea to sea
They see me
Lost to all and love
Hull down, alone
Eternally to drift
To tide or current whim
Sometime storm blasted
Saturday 10th March 2018 4:35 pm
Alone, abandoned, overlooked.
I wake up to a never ending nightmare that I call life.
Insecurities and anxieties blare in as the alarm goes off.
Snooze. Snooze. It's all a ruse, I try to hit snooze in hopes to avoid the nightmare but in this terrible wake there is no snooze so I think, "What is there to lose?"
There's the mistake, don't think, do.
Overthinking leads to overanalyzin...
Wednesday 31st January 2018 6:23 am
I caught you peeking through the window,
Of this old abandoned house,
Finely crafted from the dreams I left behind.
I stopped you dead in your tracks,
The tracks I once wandered when I discovered this realm.
How did you find me through this smoke?
It was much to blinding for me.
You took my hand and walked away,
Only pulling half of me with you.
If just for a moment...
Friday 14th October 2016 6:00 am
I am waiting for the day that you will show up at my door
With a flower for every birthday you missed.
Twenty-one flowers of vibrant colors—
Turquoise, violet, “tickled pink”—
They will spread their pedals in the warm spotlight
That will touch every inch of my cold, pale skin.
The features of my face will be illuminated.
I will no longer be the infant you left—
The life tha...
Saturday 24th September 2016 1:57 am