PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

It was Day 1 when it was scorching hot and we crossed paths.

I was looking for an oasis to drink from,

Though a hug from you was a thousand times better

Because afterwards, we went swimming in the lake and laughed at the gold diggers passing by.

Poor men were oblivious that they mined their last nugget in this desert.

It was Day 2 when we continued our journey.

You introduced me to your bitches when you brought me home.

One licked me silly while the second took a while to come around.

It was only trying to judge me to see if I would be a menace to your family.

I’ve always liked the playful, funny, and carefree breeds.

It was Day 3 when you showed me your larger-than-life garden.

You spoke of how your brother and mother had toiled day and night tending to it.

The garden was shaped like the number 5 and I couldn’t be happier.

You regaled me with stories of an ancient civilization that once existed in this land of the dead.

Every word from your tongue between breaths was like a missing page in a book lost in time.

It was Day 4 when I crawled on my knees after a beating from a two-faced sergeant

Looking for you so you could lift me back on my two feet and hold me close

But to add insult to injury, you held your scorn like you should’ve held my hands.

So I passed out on the floor and was left for dead out in the open.

How do indecisive weeds like you sleep at night?

It was Day 5 when I woke up expecting you’d be there, but your home was empty.

Your garden was withered and the magic was gone so it turns out that it was all a mirage.

You can rationalize your actions and demonize me any way you like,

But when you save your second thoughts for one minute before midnight,

It’s goodbye and good riddance to you weeds.

So I left. It was better for me to abandon you before you inevitably did the same.

The world is full of snakes and trojans as it is.

It’s best for me to give them a dose of their own venom as soon as I see right through them.

You should’ve told me earlier rather than at the last minute.

Or when I have fallen and can’t get up.

Then maybe we could’ve still been friends.

But now you’re just another silhouette that shears hearts like hedges.

If you’re looking to post an ad requesting company in a moment of loneliness,

Think again before you shatter another heart or wager your sanity.

A weed ain’t cut out for love, let alone a friendship

If it can’t make up its mind and let its loneliness fog its judgment.

Poor guy should’ve inspected the thorns before he picked the rose.

Now it’s my turn to wager a few things,

I bet you don’t even miss me.

I bet you feigned regret that you added salt in the wound.

I bet that you’ll forget all about me after the weekend I disappeared.

I bet you’ll cower in the arms of the two bitches you value most in life.

I bet you’ll start looking for another soul that you’ll pray to Aphrodite you won’t screw over.

Whatever happens to you, I am grateful that I have kin to keep tight

And an adventure I continue to embark on in the desert with or without you there for me.

You’re just another silhouette that shears hearts like hedges.

The darkness arrives
And yet something wakes.
The sun goes to sleep
Covered in the blankets
Of the horizon.
The moon wakes up 
To take the sun's place.
Where the sun once watched over,
Now the moon does the same.

The creatures below sleep 
Both in comfort and discomfort.
The creatures move about 
In the shadows
Untouched by the moon's light.
Quietly they sleep.
Stealthily they crawl.
The night is quiet,
With silence the night wears on. 

Our experiences of pain are as worthy of validation as are our experiences of love and joy. One big error that people make is to repress and ignore the pain.  They do not realise that when they do this, they repress much of the joy and love with it.  Everyone's childhood is full of joys and sorrows, whether they acknowledge it or not.  When we can grow to accept both together as part of our reason for existence is when we begin to live in abundance.  The stages of deep trauma surface each individual in their own unique way.  There is no deadline in transcending the past, only inevitable changes that will occur due to how we choose to embrace or postpone the realities of how we allowed it to affect our personal power.

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