Stress

How, And Why?

Folder: 
Outlook

It's been a while since I've seen you, been a while since I've heard from you.
Your face is the one thing I can still see, and your voice is the one thing I can still hear.
Mentally, I saw you walking, but you passed me, and didn't notice I was there.
I tried to call out to you, but you didn't hear me.

Once, I thought I loved you, everyone else seemed to think I did too.
But all I felt went away very quickly, like I knew it would. 
When I met you, I was happy, we talked almost always, and it was great having someone to talk to.
You were there, when he wasn't. 

I appreciate and love you for that.

I've tried to picture what it would be like if I was with you, what it would be like if I was yours instead of his.
Would I be happier? Would I experience what I'm not right now?
So many questions, and so many answers which I haven't found. 
Everytime I am alone, I feel some sort of sadness, some sort of emptyness.

Not that it completely has to do with you or him, but I think more to do with the loneliness I've been living with.
Making myself believe things could be different every time I find someone new.
But, you know how it goes, and how its gone for me.
How to walk away from something seems easy, but sometimes, people struggle even when they know they have to let go.

Being with someone new is something I almost don't want to do again.
I don't want to tell anyone else stories of my past, and how I once was.
I don't want to do things and not keep it to myself.
I've always been a quiet and reserved girl, I've always been you could say, overly careful about who I allow to touch me.

Doing things with him, I grew comfortable with, and something I became okay with.
Doing things with you, I've questioned, and thought of, something I would've had to grow comfortable and okay with.
Could I ever do things with you, can I see myself doing things with you, and would I ever see and hear you again........but this time, for real?

 

 

I look at how other girls live their lives, and sometimes think of how they handle being physical. 
How do they allow themselves to give their all to one guy, and then another after some time has passed?
is there never any regret? Is there never any fear and doubt?
Where does the trust comfort and idea of being okay with it come from?
If things go wrong, how are they able to allow themselves to do it again, and with someone else who isn't meant to be their someone?

And off the topic I wonder, how was someone like you, able to seemingly fall for me?
I am a damaged broken record you see. 
What is there to possibly like about me, how can one like me, and why?
Even after trying to be with someone for 5 years, I still don't know why he chose me........but then there's you. 
Why did you pick me? why havent you given up? Why do you still wish to have me?
What is there, aside from the reason to do with my body, to like about a woman like me?

 

PTSD

Who hit replay

Shut it off

No not today

Life can be rough

Enough is enough

 

The past is passed

so why must it last

This loop in my head

I constantly dread

 

Who hit replay

Shut it off

No not today

Life can be rough

Enough is enough

 

PTSD is not for me

PTSD must cease to be

Got to get it out of my head

These thoughts that I have come to dread

keep playing over inside my head

 

Who hit replay

Shut it off

No not today

Life can be rough

Enough is enough

Author's Notes/Comments: 

PTSD...we all have it in our own way...we need to stop letting it get the best of us...so much time wasted on things that cannot be changed and need to be forgotten...permanently erased...learn whatever lessons from it and move on and keep living and learning...easier said than done but thoughts to ponder nonetheless...you are not alone. Keep dreaming, keep hoping, keep living life to the fullest...take nothing for granted....be greatful...Focus on the positive.Peace.

London Commute

Skyscrapers and crowded junctions,

 

A metropolis caught in fading daylight.

 

A dying sun in the distance.

 

A line of traffic leading out of the city.

 

Sweat and pollution as commuters hurry.

 

The rumble of an underground train.

 

Another day, another evening.

 

Sunset over the city.

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Fears

Why do I cry alone at night

With tears of joy or pain

Or tend to sigh in loneliness

Dress guilt just like a chain?

Why weigh myself with tension

And bank on fear and stress

When I could rise or fail myself

By giving it my best?

 

Author's Notes/Comments: 

It was a loooonnnnngggg thought train away from Tears for Fears. 

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Breakdown

Folder: 
Haiku

We are cracking.

Our blood and stress and tears

Are drowning us all.

Snow

 

Every day more falls,
And I wonder,
Will it ever cease?
Will the sun peek through again?

 

These questions sit heavy,
My mind ablaze despite the cold,
I hear the wind on the window,
I know it will,
But it feels as if
It will not.

 

Why does it matter,
If the snow stops at all?
For you know it will return,
At the end of next fall.

 

Welcome to the real world,
Things never go away,
Only temporarily leave,
To return another day,

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Daze

What a hot mess all of this has become

I crawl out my aching bed

As it begs me not to slither out the door

Another day of coordinated confusion

Greets my gritty eyes

I listen to music about sex until I arrive at class

And then attempt not to dose off

I looked forward to cigarettes

Drugs and booze

Like I used to look forward to field trips

 

From across the room she's making a face

I've never seen before

Helpless

 

That same homeless man is at the store

Again

This time he asks me for two cigarettes

 

We are too high to be driving

Why are we not slowing down

Something throws me forward 

I wish were home

 

From across the room she asks for two cigarettes

Driving helpless I've never seen before

I wish

 

The store she's making

Helpless asks for home

Again two cigarettes

 

Something throws me

Why are we helpless

Why are we selfish

 

Room the glass trickles down

On my across skin

Bleeding breathing

 

Night falls, I go to sleep

Still shaking

 

 

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Until the scars and bloody legs

They always say: oh wow! So like her father!

So much potential. You know... Big things are coming 

The better life, the opportunities. 

So push and push and push! 

 

But push for what? Till when? 

Until the scars and blood legs? 

Until the lungs are black with tar 

And heart is sick with pain? 

 

Well, we all adjust. It's nothing you can't hide

Emotion's weak. You keep it all inside. 

Depressed? You're such a pussy. Only the strong succeed. 

Failing is not an option. So stupid, awkward, weird. 

 

Push! Push! They sent you for a better life

You're better, smarter than those other ones 

They're happy? But you're not them, 

Potential comes first. 

 

Just like my father? What if I'm not

The possibilities and roads left unexplored 

Too late. Too old. 

Must race, must beat the crowd 

No setbacks to the ordinary 

 

Happiness? That's not for you. Who said? I said

You struggle for the next. You struggle for the more. 

What's more? Where is the end? 

The end is with the scars and bloody legs. 

I Wait For Soldiers

I know your suffering is a gift,
And yet I don't want to see you suffer,
The deluge of sorrow, bitterness,
And my scourge restrained with hapless contempt,
For all the days you spent comfortless,
Abandoned through misunderstanding,
The tenderness of open arms you left for dreams non exist,
And I, not knowing the horror of your nights,
The agony of your torment, how deep the gash,
Or festering with stagnant nightmares,
Looming furtively in the silence of the night,
I weep to the heavens for just one meager moment of mercy,

That into the darkness of your shattered mind,

Unfettered alms might be fulfilled,
And hear our hearts, feel the warmth of compassion,
Taste the blood stained tears that fall wet upon our faces,
I hear the wailing shrieks of babies, mothers,
And you...from the depths of desolation,
Reaching for what once was,
As you left this land to become my hero,
The measure of true love is deepest felt in suffering,
And the battles of the ages cannot be won,
Until every being lays down their sword in the waters of tranquility,
To wipe the slate of our fathers, and their fathers past,
Carry a weapon of peace, for now is the war that matters most,
Bear your arms in love and kindness,
Now and the rest of our days we may have to share,
For life is short, and we are sorry with you,
You are not alone.

 

 

 

©2013

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Poem about feeling sorry about war.