Deadfall seasons Come like the night Sneaky and silent Waiting quietly with its Blood red oranges And copper smells A soft wet decay With no words to say Rain without cover Cold without a coat Dark without light This is the last place I’ll see until spring Peeks into my soul again
The shoes were thin and worn The day was windy and rainy The voices demanded volume And the faces… they were blurry They don’t care. They don’t care. They don’t care. They don’t care. And the tears don’t matter They’ve just made it harder Can’t breathe underwater And the blood doesn’t matter It’s just wet…
There are lots of things I hate About trauma Real honest to goodness trauma Like… How it automatically steals Future joy How it cripples effective communication How it makes trenches With one way signs in brains How it dictates patterns Of protection Of avoidance Of self-sabotage Of self- destruction Of hyper-vigilance How it demands boundaries…
The days are too short The minutes too few I wasted so many already On hurt feelings On tears of surrender On disliking myself On anger and frustration On wishes and hopes On sleep… on avoidance On escapism and heartache Precious golden seconds Carelessly spent On too many of the wrong Small things And not…
Green leaves sit Vibrate and valuable Huddled together Inside plastic Waiting They did their job They grew big Got picked And packaged And ended up In my fridge Where good intentions For health and happiness Wilt slowly Eight dollars and change Each week Wasted on Not following through
I want things I’ve never wanted Or didn’t know I did Peaceful days Patient people Comfortable friends Content nights Warm arms to Fall asleep in Strong arms to Support my failings The dreams I had Died with youth My older heart Just wants to rest And feel loved
Silence sits on the sideline As the universe passes by Millions of stars crying blue Pleading to a heavy moon And shadows on bended knee Praying to their own deity And when the whispering ends And all the great things say goodbye Silence will stand with back straight And use its very golden voice To…
A mind Full of stones Emotion Like water flows From feelings To a heart Like a waterfall A whole life lived Underwater Until tears Drain the sea Leaving Only pieces Of bone As evidence That every Last thing Was felt
It gets rusty with all the rain And the yellows Just run into brown all day The pain echos Inside hallways Locked away from you But sometimes I think you can hear The ruining Behind those walls It’s not as noisy As you’d think The death of words So many slaughtered Reimagined And recreated For…
The story Was torn up Pages ripped Thrown into the fire Too many chapters Now just ashes A pile of rubbish A complicated story That didn’t know What it wanted to say Alrighty then… New pen New journal So many new Pages to fill Enter new characters Wiser choices Deeper love Stronger convictions I can…
HASTYWORDS 