What watches us from the veil of night?
What is hiding from the touch of light?
A ghost with a past of blood and pain,
Whispering of revenge in the wind and the rain?
Is it a man condemned lying in wait,
Or the restless dead with hunger to sate?
It’s in every sound you hear,
That brushes your heart with fear.
They’re demons we have inside our minds.
Those stray thoughts we can’t seem to bind.
I’m not sure how long i spent staring at the document before i ended up writing this, but i’m pretty sure i was close to the point of saying “Dear God, either let me think of something to write or smite me.” Then my air conditioner turned off and an idea smacked me in the face, and this time it didn’t go running away taunting me after making itself known… Far to many ideas come to me, smack me in the face, then run of cackling like a mad man before i can write them… It would probably drive me insane with how often it happens. Fortunately; you can’t go where you already are, so it’s a very short trip. And with that bit of rambling out of the way, enjoy the read,
Like static in the background,
You may never notice it’s always around.
The inconsequential noise throughout the day,
You’ll only notice it when it fades away.
When you’re left in silence you’ll finally know,
That those were people you never should have let go.
It’s been way too long since i managed to get something written up and posted on here, but i finally managed to put words on a page again. It’s rather maddening when i can’t think of anything to write. With that said, enjoy the read.
Traces of Memories
Every broken dream,
Those little traces of memories.
Memories of what was,
Dreams of what could have been.
They’re still there even if they fall apart,
Drifting through the shadows of the mind till they fade away.
I still remember them even as broken as they are,
When you can’t let go of the past they will never fade.
Do they still drift in your mind,
Or have you forgotten those little things?
What did he do to deserve this?
Was it really just because of that one kiss?
A kiss from someone more beautiful than life,
A kiss from someone who was another man’s wife.
That fleeting moment that felt like it lasted forever,
The damning moment that would have them buried together.
Still holding hands as they wished they could be saved,
But two shots in the dark filled the cold grave.
I was in bed half way asleep when I wrote this one, turned out the decision to put my chromebook by my bed was a good idea after all. Enjoy the read.
In The Shadow of Mistakes
It can be such a heavy weight to bear,
The memories of what we’ve done.
Shadows of past mistakes that weigh heavily on the mind,
Things we’d rather forget that never seem to go away.
Each one is a painful lesson learned,
Lessons that our emotions won’t let us forget.
As heavy as theses shadows are we can’t let them stop us,
We can’t let them keep us from living our lives.
Hold the lessons close and never let them go,
But let go of the feelings that weigh you down.
We can never undo the mistakes we’ve made,
But we can learn from them so we don’t repeat our mistakes.
If the title is leading you to think this is going to be a happy poem, i feel like i should inform you of something before hand. It’s not.
A cruel mockery of a lonely soul,
These things we call love songs.
For those with love, they’re warm and bright,
For those without, they grind in what we lack.
They’re a reminder that we’re alone,
Without a partner to share our life with.
These love songs that play in my head,
They serve only to drive in the pain.
They haunt me, they taunt me.
Reminding me of the thing I want,
Yet they provide no helping in its pursuit.
Those tormenting words that I want to get out,
To get them out of my head and never come back.
But without fail, those songs will play.
Reminding me of what I want each and every day.
The title of this poem came to mind several hours ago, and the words for it just now showed up for me to actually write the poem after spending that entire time trying to figure out what they were. That grumbling aside, enjoy the read.
Up in smoke
Watch it burn, watch it burn,
Lessons that were never learned.
How to be kind, how to be nice.
Important things melting away like ice.
Flames lick the hopes and dreams,
While your mind is filled with shouts and screams.
The shouts of feelings that were never shown,
The screams of people you could have known.
That before you now charred to ashes,
And your past burns as more time passes.
Is this the start of your new day,
Or is this the fire in which you burn away?
Putting things i feel into words is much easier than trying to say them out loud ever will be, so i write the things that i cannot get myself to say.
I know it’s not mine, but I treasure it all the same,
The tender whisper of your heart, even if it’s not whispering my name.
I can only dream that one day it might speak of me,
Though that might be a day that i never see.
My hope and longing never seem to die,
Killing them is something i did try.
Even when i thought they were gone, your voice brought them back.
It seems the conviction to truly give up is something i lack.
Is that my blessing, or is it my curse?
Despite the pain it may cause, the thought of being without you is worse.
So i stay as i am, the foolish pup who fell for you,
Quietly wishing that his dreams might come true.
This time it was the song “I Play Dead” by Demon Hunter that got put on loop to draw out the lurking idea for a poem, or in this case putting my feelings into words. I find it somewhat odd that, while I’m usually rather shy, i don’t hesitate at all to throw my emotions out for others to see.
That aside, I hope you enjoy the read
There are stitches in my heart.
Stitches to keep it from falling apart.
Stitches for wounds that refuse to heal,
Emotional damages i don’t want to feel.
Love bloomed then thrown away,
Leaving wounds that always stay.
Shaking hands bring the needle to flesh
Fragile threads to close a wound so fresh.
Even when those wounds seem only a memory,
The stitches can break, a cruel reminder of how things used to be.
Painful and bleeding as if it were new,
I can only think of one thing to do.
Another set of stitches to stop the blood and the pain,
With bitter tears falling into the new blood stain.
Here’s another old poem of mine while I work at writing something new. Trying to think of a witty remark to make before this just feels wrong for this poem, so just enjoy the read.
At each others throats in another fight,
Each one wanting to prove they’re right.
It always seems to go the same,
Just a conflict that has no aim.
She screams about how he drinks,
He yells about how she winks.
Now the accusations are being thrown,
The pent up anger is being shown.
She slaps him hard across the face,
Hearts pound at a furious pace.
He throws her back into the wall,
A glass framed picture starts to fall.
The picture’s smiles drop away,
Along with hopes for a better day.
Watch it drop and hit the ground,
Cringe at that explosive sound.
But they don’t notice the shards fly,
And they don’t hear the child’s cry.