Hands shaking,
shoulders tense
enough to make the neck freeze.
Grinding the teeth into a powder
to dance the bloody gums
into a migraine raw nerves.
I am on fire with bloodlust.
Touch my heart,
feel the broken child cry.
Wear my jacket,
see the weighted spirit
wearing a scrowling mask.
Walk in my footsteps,
not beside me.
I am an angry beast.
I sense why I am alone.
The more I struggle to do good,
to be good-
The mother's words of cruel taste
corrupts the wheels of good.
The ghosts of the past
crumbles the cage for the beast.
Touch my heart,
feel the broken child cry.
Wear my jacket,
see the good soul weighted
wearing a scrowling mask.
Set me loose-
follow not my footsteps,
for I go into scary darkness
of forshaken nightmares.
Raw truths.... they massacre
Raw truths.... they massacre us if we let them, leaving us with the salty residue of past perceptions about how life is "supposed to be". Lies!!!! It isn't supposed to be anything. It just is what it is.
.......
...and he asked her, "do you write poetry? Because I feel as if I am the ink that flows from your quill."
"No", she replied, "but I have experienced it. "
This collection
Hero has Fallen, is a collection that I am seeing a lot of growth. I have had an anger problem most of my life. Finally a doctor listened and gave me the help I sought. Editing and getting this collection together has shown me I am stronger than my past. I do have PTSD but not an excuse for being an ass. But life is what it is. Thank you.
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I am an artist of words as well as paints.
You're welcome, and congrats
You're welcome, and congrats on choosing growth. *tips hat with utmost respect*
.....
...and he asked her, "do you write poetry? Because I feel as if I am the ink that flows from your quill."
"No", she replied, "but I have experienced it. "
*nods head in respect*
I don't know what to say. Other than I got tired of running into the walls. I have turn my past into strength to move forward. Growth is good, better than digging.
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I am an artist of words as well as paints.