poems by a pretty girl
- Reads 150
- Votes 27
- Parts 10
MatureOngoing8m
Last published Wed, Jan 24, 2018
poetry slipping out of palms and tricking down the forearms of those who care to try to grasp it
watery words, rolling off tongues in waves
the tsunami of thoughts pouring through the cracks, desperate to fill the empty spaces between love and hate
unchartered territory with no name to it in the canyon between the boundaries
dry desert land now drenched, the canyon filled to the brim with these watery, slippery words
because the space between love and hate is much easier to swim than it is to climb.
if he were here i'd swim the canyon right to him,
but since he's left the other side is no where in sight,
and the land of hate beckons my drowning soul with the promise of solid ground while i swim in the uncertainty,
where did he go?
and why did he leave me behind?
•••••
•••••
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This is my first shot at a book that's mostly poetry, you may not love it but please don't hate! Lowercase intended. A work in progress, editing as I go! Mature theme, possibly triggering.
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Of Breaking hearts, young love, betrayal and pain. Of Mending hearts, familiar pain, unexpected hurt and aftermath. Of Healing hearts, underated heartache, pain and acceptance. Of Love, Love that is as deep sea. Pain, that knows no bounds. Strength, that exist within time, but lasts forever. Of Sadness, sadness that always returns, Of Trauma, trauma that runs in deep, and the art of dying, every time. Of Scribbles and rambles, unsaid words and sealed pain. Of Life, Love, Pain, Sadness, Trauma. Of the art of rising like a phoenix, every time. Of Anxiety and Paranoia. Of Anything bad, Of Everything good. This is a story of a girl, it's a continuous one. A story of a sad girl, very lonely, but beautiful, intelligent and strong. She's a self sabotaging narcissistic girl, but also a talented, skilled and brave girl. She is riddled with anxiety and depression, but somehow finds ways to get up each morning, thinking of beautiful things. She has loved and lost, hurt and being hurt. She has not lost herself, but she has not find herself either. This is the life of a girl, laid before you in poems and thoughts. Here is a piece of me, and in here, undoubtedly, you will find pieces of yourself too. I am a mess, but aren't we all? | formerly SOMETHING BROKEN |
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