Hi guys,
I'll save the apologies, it seems as though I'm going to be continuously intermittent on the blog as the months pass. I do miss writing, and I do miss you guys.
You really isn't a poem I intended on writing, but I'm glad I did. You see, in the midst of writing The Fictional Dependency series, I found a multitude of locked up emotions and amazing memories that I wished to share. Some were real, others were intricate reflections of my thoughts, ideas, dreams and feelings. Sounds of all volumes. Images of all colours.
Everything I pour into my poetry has meaning, and with this one, it has a meaning I don't want to have. It has a memory of a time before I became who I am now. It has a purity of feelings and an outstanding debt. It has a version of me that did not follow through in detail, only in essence.
Through all my successes and failures over the past few years, I have found myself here. Perhaps my future is still vibrant, perhaps I don't understand just how fantastic my present tense is. What I do know is there is a part of me locked up in my memories, knocking on my interiors every now and again, boastfully escaping through the tips of my fingers after dressing colourfully in the trenches of my mind.
I'm currently working on my first poetry book, with the intent of capturing as much of the essence in one place forever.
As always, I hope you like it x
Can you be less than dominant?
Can I bypass your essence and move on?
Your scarred skin is flashing in and out;
I even still laugh at the thought.
The world’s on fire and I am caught,
Staring blankly into my soul;
Reaching out for a grounded man.
Trying my best to stay whole.
The words you gave me, gave me hope,
To hold on longer than I was taught.
Survival in the world of weak.
My thoughts are echoing your absence here.
I try to tiptoe, I try to run.
I attempt to escape into the deep.
But instead, I come back to you,
And the magical image of the ocean.
You’re submerged, you are haunting.
It is beautiful, and it is late.
My path is vibrant, as is my heart.
I think I left it there.
Had I the knowledge of what would come,
I would have blacked out sooner.
Saving myself from a thousand moments,
Of a lifetime of this.
Can you be less than absent?
Can you be nothing at all?
I feel your distance, it’s depth and shape.
And, somehow, it is not enough.
06/10/2019
I'll save the apologies, it seems as though I'm going to be continuously intermittent on the blog as the months pass. I do miss writing, and I do miss you guys.
You really isn't a poem I intended on writing, but I'm glad I did. You see, in the midst of writing The Fictional Dependency series, I found a multitude of locked up emotions and amazing memories that I wished to share. Some were real, others were intricate reflections of my thoughts, ideas, dreams and feelings. Sounds of all volumes. Images of all colours.
Everything I pour into my poetry has meaning, and with this one, it has a meaning I don't want to have. It has a memory of a time before I became who I am now. It has a purity of feelings and an outstanding debt. It has a version of me that did not follow through in detail, only in essence.
Through all my successes and failures over the past few years, I have found myself here. Perhaps my future is still vibrant, perhaps I don't understand just how fantastic my present tense is. What I do know is there is a part of me locked up in my memories, knocking on my interiors every now and again, boastfully escaping through the tips of my fingers after dressing colourfully in the trenches of my mind.
I'm currently working on my first poetry book, with the intent of capturing as much of the essence in one place forever.
As always, I hope you like it x
You
Can you be less than dominant?
Can I bypass your essence and move on?
Your scarred skin is flashing in and out;
I even still laugh at the thought.
The world’s on fire and I am caught,
Staring blankly into my soul;
Reaching out for a grounded man.
Trying my best to stay whole.
The words you gave me, gave me hope,
To hold on longer than I was taught.
Survival in the world of weak.
My thoughts are echoing your absence here.
I try to tiptoe, I try to run.
I attempt to escape into the deep.
But instead, I come back to you,
And the magical image of the ocean.
You’re submerged, you are haunting.
It is beautiful, and it is late.
My path is vibrant, as is my heart.
I think I left it there.
Had I the knowledge of what would come,
I would have blacked out sooner.
Saving myself from a thousand moments,
Of a lifetime of this.
Can you be less than absent?
Can you be nothing at all?
I feel your distance, it’s depth and shape.
And, somehow, it is not enough.
06/10/2019
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