Sometimes you hate yourself And you think everyone else Should hate you too So you make up reasons And concoct scenarious That prove that it’s true Because if it’s true then You don’t have to focus On why you hate yourself And you can begin To defend yourself From the other person And then maybe…
The day breaks On winter And I cry For the warmth It will cover My heart breaks As the cold Creeps in And the tears Turn to ice Before night falls On winter
Because I don’t feel brave. Because I want to be brave. Because I need to be brave. Because, when it counts… I am brave. ~Hastywords 10 WAYS TO BE BRAVE Love yourself. This is one of the hardest things to do for many, many reasons. Sometimes, in order to love yourself…
There is a placeDeep inside meFolded thoughtsAssassins to beStealthily quietTrying to find meAs dancing flames Burn below me And blinking stars Make promises To a braver me
There it was just lying there Purpose holding tight to hope Clinging so hard to the dwindling Dominance of a careless faith That the ground began to rise As if dark itself was being born
Beginnings are sneaky You can avoid them But the chaos finds ways To wrap them up Disguising them in nerves And butterflies And swimming thoughts Lacing them in hopes And icing them with dreams But underneath everything They hide nasty secrets Covered so cleverly In sparkles and glitter Ribbons and bows It is hard to…
I am perceived and divided. You see me as bound by history. A set of experiences chaining me to the railway. Boundaries marked. Respect tried and failure too often won. Knots tied but carefully unraveled. I am but your servant. Your true beloved, And so much more as my duty has been sworn. Because of…
I stood still Invisibly quiet A bystander A witness To an atmosphere Gaining tension Not me, no way It wouldn’t be me Tipping the scale The precarious needle Into the red territory Crimson delicacy Marking danger Overloaded Overheated Over the limit Voices were angry And so very loud Eyes were enraged Focused and wide Yet…
The smooth surface feels like glass Pressed hard against my wet cheek Shapes dancing just inside memories Behind curtains of shame and regret I see shifting blurs race to and fro Dripping down the canvas of yesterday Stripes that don’t last, or change Bright spots that linger when you blink Peeling itself off the tapestry, alive…
HASTYWORDS 