Hark and be of good cheer!
A kind, eccentric writer lives here!
Some serious works, some silly rhymes
Show the passing of life times
Stories therein, some words too
Poetry for the fanciful of you
Read on, good soul, and may you smile
And stay herein for quite a while

Every Time

Every time
Every word
Prepared and crafted with care
Smoothly sailing in sculpted lines
This is what I meant to say
This is what I meant to portray
But dry and dull and drawn
All I have done
Has withered with the time
Has faded into
What I call failure
Can I escape this feeling of guilt?
This ruthless sense of incompetence?
This overwhelming sense of unworthiness?
Am I meant to wallow here, too afraid?
To fail again
To fall again
To cry again
That I won’t even say what needs be said
Smoothly sculpted sailing lines of words
Have scattered in this broken breeze.

{written a while ago. just found it}

Blah Blah Blah

Blah blah blah
Is all I feel like writing. Is all I feel like saying.
Forget that, I feel like screaming. Screaming atrocities to the ends of the earth. Screaming to the world exactly where to stick it.
I feel like curling up into a ball and giving up on life. Sure life isn’t easy but heck it shouldn’t be tortuous. I want to hide away and fade away and go away and never come back. I want to cry till tears run dry. I want to sob till I ache and scream and have someone NOTICE for Pete’s sake.
I want to run away, run far far away to the other side of this world across the ocean. I want to be noticed, to have a voice, to not worry about being judged or looked at or of being remotely responsible. I want to be left to my premature self and cry and wail like the spoiled brat that I apparently am.
It’s not like anyone would really care anyways. They’d notice I was gone, sure, but they would be in for a nasty shock to find out why the heck I disappeared. “Wait she’s one of those depressed chicks?” Y.E.S. YES I AM AND I DON’T CARE WHAT YOU THINK IF I LET MY EMOTIONS RUN WILD AND TRAMPLE ME TO BITS. IT’S WHO I AM!!! SO STOP JUDGING ME. Just stop talking. Just stop pushing. This is not what I need right now. I just need love and care and affection, not to work on my long-overdue problems. I need acceptance. I need my friends. I need my brother. I need my boyfriend.
What I need most is God. The only one who can fix me when I’m like this, the only thing in the universe that really cares is He. He really understands. HE knows the demons inside me. He sees my faults. My insecurities. My deepest fears.
And He loves me, calls to me through that still small voice. I lay broken and bleeding and He rushes forward, not scolding me for waiting so long to call on Him but holding me close telling me it’s going to be alright. And because of Him, it will be. It will be glorious as only He can make it.
So when you blow up and scream blah blah blah, then know that someone will never leave you by yourself. Someone will always pick you back up with loving hands, hands poised to heal.