Change

This is something new.
Something old.

Where things used to make sense...
A change in the wind, the direction-
The want, it's felt with every minute that passes through.

It is strange, confusing.
Makes the past seem like a distant memory of something that never
Should have happened to begin with, but did.

The memory is missed, yes.

The want...
What's wrong?

What is it?

Turmoil

Stop it!
Stand!

You need to stand!
Forget it!

I can't!
You can!

Stuck in the quicksand.
Blurry world.
Blurry thoughts.
Perhaps I really should just start to talk.
Yes
I think I should just talk.

Marble

Can't take it.
I said I could.
I can't
I really can't-

Trying to ignore it.
to let go.

Break past it, but I can't

I want to
So badly want to.
This isn't a feeling meant for me.

Can I trade it for greed?
I don't get lonely.
I don't fall to my knees-
Begging like some common girl with no will power to stand on her own.

I'm resisting the water that wants to fall.
Resisting the clenching and sinking feeling deep within.
It's not a common thing-
Though others would say it is.
Not to me,
No not to me.

This feeling that sends me to my knees.
To the floor.
Crashing on it's marble surface-
Cold, cool surface.
My nails bleed.
Bleed from my will to stand up but only able to lift half of me by my hands.
Palms sticky with sweat.
This is no endurance test.
Fallen on the floor.
Barely holding on to sanity.

Shaking legs, bleeding nails.
Nails that dig into the cool marble,
Marble that is freezing me to the core.

Words

Can it stop now?
The words?
Entering-
Rushing quickly to the fingers?
To create such poems as these?
It's not for me,
Not for me.

Shut up mind!
Stop creating these sentences of rhyme.
I want it to stop-
Please,
Shut off...

I don't want to write anymore,
I feel so vain.
So pathetic and needy.

Weak.

These sentences of rhyme.
That I used to write to pass the time-
Have become an outlet for all the things on my mind.
Personal things.

I try not to write "I" because those get annoying to people.
But every single one is here,
My voice.
My words-
Emotions
Heart
Out in the open for all to see.

To judge, to poke, to prod
To wonder.

These are all about me.

I hate it, but I can't talk about it.
And I get tired of bringing it up over and over to others.
So I write.
Write it all.

My outlet for the things I try not to say-
Try to push back.
Try to not act on.
Try not to think about.
But eventually end up doing so anyway.

These words will always be my pain.

In-Sane

No more holding back.
this is the truth. Lost it all.
Love, Pain, Betrayal.
All.

Known is the way.
Known is the game.
Known is the same as tame.

To breathe in a scent unseen-
Taste something that appears unclean-
Insane.

Wanting that feeling deep, deep inside.
Craving it like the longing in one's own heart.
Hold it-
Hold  it.

Deeper, want it deeper inside-
To reach into the core of the soul.
But it can't reach.
Crave it.
Tastes like the sweetest wine.
Wine never tried.
Virgin eyes.
Pure soul-
Swallowed up whole.

Desire is enveloping the ache.
Ache for something insane.

So Alluring Mask.

Pandora

Harbor the doubts, in a secret vault.
Shh, quiet-
They might hear.

They're in a jar, that jar is sealed.
With wax from bee's hive.
It won't open.
Not now-
One's own Pandora story.

Choose to crack it, choose to hide it.
Leave it shut.
Twist the wrists that want to unleash it.
Don't let them..
Open that jar.

Pandora-
Heed the words.

Leave it be.

Bitterness

Would you understand.
What I want?
What I need?
When I bleed?

You said you would, that you do,
Perhaps I believe you,
A tiny smidget-
Real small.

Caring isn't always understanding.

Overplayed

Like an over played record it plays-
Nonstop in the mind.
My mind.

So tired of hearing the same things-
Feeling the same way, it would be better to feel emptiness.

Cannot explain the source of it.
Cannot share it with those close to me-
So close to me.
Because
In reality

They are so very far away.