When the moon replaces the sun
I’m haunted by sharp things
That speak to me, begging me to carve in to
Not only my arms, but in to
Everything I’ve ever known to be real.
And every day
When the sun replaces the moon
I’m haunted by regret
That stabs in to me, begging me to put a stop to
Not only to what I do to myself, but to
The way I reject reality to feed my addiction.
I remember how it felt to be in your arms that once.
Like you were strong and I was your baby girl.
Like you were everything and I didn’t have to be
anything but yours.
Not even mine.
I remember how it rained that day.
Hard. Like the sky was pelting words at us from too high up.
And you rocked me
like you had always dreamed of doing.
From the moment you knew me,
And I remember the unsettling feeling that came with the next moment.
I remember hearing my own screams grow in strength
before you knew that anything was wrong.
Before you knew you were
And I can still feel the force of your cry
as the wind ripped me from your arms
and the place where I fell
The rain stopped then, but you were already gone.
And I was the last little bit of you that was left.
Face down on the street.
Waiting for you to come back for me.
I called to you once,
begging you to come down again,
and you called to me telling me to come up.
And I tried. I tried so hard.
But I fell.
And I clearly remember how no one was there to pick me up again.
To cradle me like you did. That once.
To hold me as their child and sing to me as I cried.
So I stopped trying to move . Stopped trying to cry. Just layed there.
Waiting for the rain to start again.
Young writers, reaching out and helping each other. We’re all the same. It’s never easy for anyone.
I was never exceedingly good
Or staying in one place for too long
So most of what I say Is my wishful thinking
Grabbing the wheel
And driving off into the sunset
As we drive past dead towns and cities I will wonder
About better ways to fade away
And better ways to die
Or worse days to let go
And lose control
And wonder how I still move forward
So, if life really is a highway
I’ve been drinking
And probably swerving in my lane
So I’ll drop the bottle
And maybe get a grip
And wrap myself
Around the next lamppost I see
And I’ll sit there and wait
Until someone might stop
And give me directions
To the next hospital
by bulletproof glass.
you can see me
but you can’t touch me.
you can’t get
inside my head
the way you want to.
you’ll never know
the things i don’t want
you to know.
you can’t shoot through
and you can’t
knock them down.
i won’t let you.
because if you did
then you’d see all
of my raw,
you’d see how weak
without my armor.
you’d see how
my blood pulses
just like yours,
and tears run
down my face
just like yours.
just like you.
and i’ll never
let you see
Please feel free to provide constructive feedback to any of the pieces I post— both myself and the young writers I try to encourage are always aiming to improve, and we love to hear from you.
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Hello nighttime thinker
Please, go on to sleep
Do not lose yourself in the universe deep
Just listen to something besides your own fear
Like a wide, brown guitar
Or a sweet white tailed deer.
Oh please, pay no mind to the crude, hopeless cries
Of the people in cages, with loss in their eyes!
Yes, go leave behind all the suffering voices
Living mangled up dreams, and ugly, dark choices.
And don’t even think about how small you are
Beyond your little room, and your shiny new car,
There’s a fast-spinning world that is dying and living
And screaming, and twisting,
And never forgiving.
Oh wait, nighttime thinker,
Why are you still here?
Drift off to the lies that I tell you, my dear!
Why, everything’s lovely, and pretty, and nice!
So just go to sleep
Please don’t make me ask twice.
“If you let your nightmares overcome you, you might never let your dreams come true. Never forget who you really are, and never stop cherishing the special things.”
Something about this one just spoke to me. From YWP..
It’s sad when you don’t feel special no more.
Makes your thoughts all jumbled
And your smile all sore.
Makes that mask you’ve been wearing
Feel just like your skin
And I’m not sure I like
This fake skin that I’m in.
And I’m not sure I like all these cellophane people
With their looking-glass thoughts
And their dirtied up steeples
Where they pray to get by just for just one little day
Where they tidy up numbers, all wasting away
With their dreams and ambitions all kept in a drawer
All locked up and socked up till they don’t shine no more.
I don’t wanna get by, I don’t wanna be fine!
Like the cellophane people who don’t cross the line
From their gray little quarters to their dull little lives
With their prim little daughters and their prim little wives.
So I wanna be messy and make people frown!
Well, its better than having it all upside down
In a neat little smile, in its sad little way
And I’m gonna be someone who’s special