Shhhhh See that thought The one swimming around And around and around and around The one growing bigger Gaining speed, spinning faster It has you in its teeth Has you hogtied Chained to the train And you sit frozen No motor skills No verbal gymnastics No other thoughts But the one The angry one The…
My life is a process Of inhaling and exhaling Of grieving the passing of Rejoicing in the newness of Feeling the wisdom of pain Wearing the comfort of love Hiding from myself While searching high and low Before finding myself Being fearful of what’s to come And being proud of what’s behind My life is…
Since he’s been around The words don’t spill out They live inside me They grow stronger More colorful, joyful A changing vocabulary Positively charged And full of hope, dreams A kaleidoscope landscape Of endless possibility And like waterfalls The words fall Effortlessly, beautifully Onto a canvas Where I paint them
Sometimes I read Reddit and I ran across a question a guy asked. He was annoyed by his girlfriend’s playful antics. For instance, she liked to splash him with water when washing dishes together, put cold hands on his chest, goose him in public, slap his buttocks, stick her tongue out when he moves in…
Hiding behind scars As if they are trees Camouflaged And silent And buried deep Are the cries of help And the hopes of joy All words end here Some days I can’t even speak without hating myself.
There was a time before I was diagnosed with severe depression that it seemed all the pain was leaking out of my eyes. I don’t miss those tears. I cried into my oatmeal No real reason why Just really tired you see I cried on the treadmill I felt broken and betrayed Need a nap…
We have to grow into things And sometimes it’s dark and cruel That expectation To just be able to do and do And when you can’t do Because that isn’t how you grow The judgement is stifling The community goes quiet And the growing into things Becomes backing out of things Becomes avoiding things And…
The world fell like confetti Through the black void of space Just poof A ball of dust and life gone No explosions or eruptions No trumpets or piano chords No bye bye Miss American pie Just melted skies drifting off Like lazy smoke looking For a new place to begin
Grief has its own set of lungs And tears that etch and burn Lyrical scriptures engraved Upon our very tongues Sorrow is a bright flame Slowly consumed by time And when the fire dies Love remains the same If mourning we must do Because life never lasts Then I hope I do it well To…
I trashed more posts this month than ever. The older I get the more meaningless I feel words are. Mine specifically. Everything feels noisy. My skin. The sky. Your hair. The weight of failure is noisy. I keep failing. It keeps screaming. But the weight isn’t as heavy as I thought it would be. Maybe…
HASTYWORDS 