poetry

The most complicated skill is to be simple.

I primarily use poetry as a purge, a self-medication device when I__ in the depths of loneliness, anxiety or in the throes of depression. When I__ lost in the darkness of mental illness, I spill forth a deluge of words and prose that are oftentimes grim, dark and depressive. And when my poems are spilled forth into one of my poetry journals, I feel a weight has been indeed been lifted from me, and my mind can rest just a bit easier.

I want to sleep in the ovenbecause I just burn in the bed.

No Child of YoursI saw a child hide in the cornerSo I went and asked her nameShe was so naive and so petiteWith such a tiny frame. 'No one,' she replied, that's what I am calledI have no family, no one at allI eat, I sleep, I get depressedThere is no life, I have nothing left.''Why hide in the corner?' I had to ask twiceBecause I've been hurt, it not very niceI tried to stop it, it was out of my controlI feared for myself I wanted to go. I begged for my sorrow to disappearI turned in my bed, oh God, I knew they were near'So come on little girl, where do you goA path ahead, or a path to unknown?'With that she arose, her head hung lowShe held herself for only she knowsHer tears held back, her heart like iceIt looks as though she has paid the price.The ice started melting, her tears to flowThe memories flood back, still so many years to goThe pain, the anger all built up insideNowhere to run, nowhere to hide.It will get better, just wait and seeYou'll get a life, though you'll never be fireOpen your heart and love yourselfThe abuse you suffered was NOT your fault.

Oh, precious losing streak,you're too cute for your own good. I try to laugh about itbut my face is made of wood.

I want to celebrate the sadness that makes you feel everything so deeply. I want to throw a party for the wounds that make you so unabashedly human.

There is another alphabet, whispering from every leaf, singing from every river, shimmering from every sky.

love meget lost in mebut bewareside effects includea lot of shivering, babya lot of drinking, maybea lot of sinking, baby

Discouragement, fear, and depression__hree villains who lurk in the dark.They slip inside souls with a blindfold and goals to shatter your dreams and extinguish your spark.Their tactics are highly effective.They crush a great many each day.And under their spell it is easy to dwellOn fiascoes and failures that end in dismay.The heart and the mind are left heavy.The last speck of will is erased.And nothing stays on when these villains are gonebut a mouthful of bile with the bitterest taste.Alas! You must conquer the scoundrels!Elude, dodge, and keep them at bay!To feel fear slink in, boring under your skin,is a sign that his brothers are well on their way.So reach for your weapons against them!Take hope and hard work in each hand!Strap faith on your hips and a prayer on your lipsand show those debasers how firmly you stand!Discouragement, fear and depression__he truth should be known of these cads.They__e empty and weak; it is your strength they seek.Deny them and life is your wish in the bag.

I am the shore and the ocean, awaiting myself on both sides.

We're in the business of melancholiaand we are married to our work.

It is beautiful to express love and even more beautiful to feel it.

This is the hour I hide everythingBehind my eyesTo see if you can seeAll the trouble my brain's been brewing. Yes, I feel I am the worst and you are the bestAnd yet, and yet, Nothing bad unfolds as we sit,Young and nervous, Alive and bursting,With futures that may not entwine.Who am I?Who am I to sabotage what may be too smallFor even chaos to noticeAnd disassemble?

When you told me I didn't love youI simply thought how would you knowFor I remembered the spaces between your fingersAnd the crease between your eyesHow dare you tell meI never thought of you as mine.

I remember a scared, young girl hiding in the guise of arrogance and rebellion. I remember feeling lost in a world where everyone else seemed to have it all figured out. I remember the tears of pain, the rants of anger and the hell that seemed to have swallowed me whole. Although I remember these things, it is now, over a decade later, more like a story that I find hard to believe. Did it all really happen? Even as I write this, my eyes begin to swell. It really did happen. I was that girl. And I__ sorry she had to suffer so. But, that is over now...

Use the wings of the flying Universe, Dream with open eyes; See in darkness.

I visited many places, Some of them quite Exotic and far away, But I always returned to myself.

Wherever I go, I meet myself.