Why am I so uncomfortable?
Why is no problem solvable?
My skin won't fit,
I am a mess and a figit.
Move, move and make a fool
Of myself and friends- oh blob.
My rhythm has gone,
My brain and soul are one.
My head needs a gun,
Just pull that finger and thumb..
Oh... there is goes... again.
Movements distracts that crawl inside,
That creepy feeling of a growing tide,
Is coming, the enemy camped in my
Gates... waiting...staring... moving.
At every beautiful note, my soul in pierced
Oh where, where, where are you, Jesus!?
I try, you know I do, but am I getting farther from you?
My mountain is mine, but I drew you in
To rely on you feels like scorpions.
MY SOUL is not one with me, wherever I be.
My heart hurts.
It feels shattered...
Is there anything left?
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Heya! Hope you enjoyed this positive rendition of life. Please be sure to comment any ideas; I'd love to hear from you. Also, if you like this, please click that star to help me. :)
warning: ...gets deep and informal at the same time ;)
I wrote this song in the second row of chairs from the front on the right-hand side of the big school hall we meet in for church. It was during a song. I was next to this amazing guy, who since has become a distant memory... I'm sure he is still there and still him, but he's not my there and he's not my him. I have a regret that day. What if...what if I had let him read this poem when he tried to? Would we still be friends? Would he still be filled with a fear chases away anyone who gets too close?
I wonder, I do. But that's off point; I'll carry on with my poem now.
This is a simple poem, but reading back through it, a tide of emotion threatens to swamp me, because... it is raw and...it is see-through. This poem is a cry for understanding. Understanding my life, my faith and my friends. It is also a realisation that this battle was mine to fight; perhaps I already subconsciously knew why that guy was growing further from me. Maybe there really are some things friends shouldn't be told; not even 'best friends'. That was my war to win. And, at least he thinks, I should therefore not rely on the little comfort friends can give me by hearing out the few problems I can actually bear to express. it makes me sad to write this. I don't believe it.
Whenever someone hears you have a really big problem, they say, "Have you been able to talk about it?...Have you told any of your friends?" There must be a reason for this. Friends are there to support and hear you.
Am I being too harsh? It is a lot to expect a person to want to hear your worries when there is nothing they (or anyone) can do about it. It is true that it was my battle. But it is also true that I only got through it because of those same friends who were willing to listen to me every now and then.
To the person mentioned in this poem, sorry. Yes, you almost destroyed me when you up and left, but that was my fault. To rely on one person. And I don't think that was fair on you even if you asked for it...You didn't know what you were getting into.
To end this commentary on a positive note, I want my readers to know that whatever 'truths' you might realise regarding other people and their feelings does not change who you are. A good quote is that from My Big Fat Greek Wedding (Oh, go on of all the things I've said, don't judge that hehe ;) ), "Don't let your past dictate who you are, but let it become part of who you will become." This means making your own future, but accepting your past because - like it or not - it's a part of you. <3
Kay, I'm done! Good night :D
Special thanks to Baoban Shee for this 'Enchantingly beautiful' choral music. An amazing creation indeed.
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Wave (Book 2)
PoetryI had survived the first. That was then; this is now. The blindfold of so many pills slowly died away and first though my finger then my head, a passion, a hurt and a need filled me as every moment was consumed with words; every breath with wisps of...
