Here

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Here–

Simple words
drip
from vacant voices,
mindless tongues.

Empty sounds
fill the unfamiliar
surroundings.

Heart pounding,
forcing smiles.
Eyes staring,
palms resting
on my shoulders.

Here–

My hands quietly rattle
the light grocery bag
holding
my past
as I follow them
to a room.

my room

They say they’re here
for me,
they say they care.

But all I hear
are vague sounds
echoing
from the mouths
of strangers.

Simple words
that have been said before.

Here–

is now
home.

The Pen

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I was just a girl
observing the world
when a passion inside
began to unfurl.

My heart kept
sighing-
speaking-
screaming
at my mind.

But it wouldn’t take the time
to listen
or think
about what ravaged through me.

My soul felt numb.
In need-
In need of something.
Something to light the fuse.
Something to light the fire.
Something to warm the coals
of my soul which had grown cold.

As this plight caught my throat,
I choked on the thought.
If I spoke the words
I wished to say,
pay-
I surely would.

So as I gasped for air
behind this notion of thought,
I grasped for the pen
and sat down to write.

Photo credit: http://blog.prepscholar.com/how-are-ap-exams-scored

Hardened Heart

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During the storm,
the winds grew colder
as my heart grew numb
and heavy like a boulder.

I had always
worn it on my sleeve,
too afraid of what would happen
if I were to leave-
Leave it behind
for anyone to take,
leave it to someone
for them to break.

But as it hardened
and heavied itself,
I had to find a way
to steady it myself.

I could no longer bear
the weight inside
no matter
how much I tried.

I decided to take it
where it would never be found.
But my heavy heart
was now dragging the ground.

So I hauled it up
to the highest hill
where it would no longer
be able to feel.

Storm at Sea

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We are nothing but vessels on the sea,
constantly praying that a storm isn’t brewing.
But one always is-
and once the winds call the clouds to attention
and the downpour begins,
there’s nowhere to go.

We are stuck
in the middle of an empty ocean
with nothing-
only our hopes and prayers to protect us.

We have only a small faith
that lightning won’t strike our masts,
that we wont capsize,
that this storm will end.
But it always does-
The clouds will subside,
the sun will arise,
and a new day will appear.

We may be shaken up,
bruised,
and a little dizzy,
but we survive the storms-
only to appreciate the sunny days
even more.

Life is a Dream

 

Questioning the unquestionable,
seeing the unseen,
believing the unbelievable,
like life is only a dream.

Gliding through thought
like it’s the last of your life.
Bending over backwards
to make it all seem right.

Moving without notice.
Blind to every scene.
What does it all matter?
What does it even mean?

When you think with cognition
and breathe only with your lungs,
the air around you disappears
and leaves you there with none.

If only you could tell yourself
nothing is as it seems,
you’ll stand even stronger
since life is only a dream.

 

Photo Credit: http://www.writerscafe.org/writing/Neenee/1506152/

 

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