Sunday, September 28, 2008

Poems I Have Posted on Facebook

These are some of the poems I have posted so far on a Facebook group, for critiquing, to see if people think I might have some literary talent. Most of my poems tend to be on the dark side, as I suffer from multiple mental disorders, like depression, OCD, etc. It's not that I aim at dark poetry, it's just what ends up pouring out of me. I'm not sure I'm much of a writer, but have found a sense of release when I have written my idea of what poetry is. I can only hope that other people will like what I write or understand it. Some pieces will be older pieces, some will be quite new, as it is something I have taken up again in the last few months.


Enemy of Mine
Looking into the mirror I see my reflection
That girl on the other side makes me cringe in disgust
I slam my fists into the glass beating her hard
The broken shards slice into my hands like a hot knife through butter
I slide my blood soaked hands over that girl again and again
Trying to make her disappear using my life's blood
But the blood drips down the crushed glass slowly
Revealing that disgusting, pathetic creature once more
There's no running from her, no escape at all
She's always there, whining, crying, dying inside
She blindly begs for love, friendship and acceptance
Not getting it through her stupid mind, it'll never happen
She's too hard to love, too weak to accept, too shy to befriend
Why can't she get it through that thick skull, no one wants her?
She's too much to deal with, too sensitive to stand
She'll never be anything more than a weak little girl
So I continue to berate her and beat her over and again
Trying to teach her to accept the truth and move on
No one wants you here, it's time to move on
It's your own fault I can't stand you, just look you're a mess
Afraid of your own shadow, of the demons that live within
You're a sad waste of a girl and I want to be rid of you
You're ugly, no one wants you, take a hint and move on
The beatings will continue, I hate that you're here
The blood has kept dripping and I see we're both woozy
But I'll stand here waiting, until I can see you no more



Freak

If you’re a freak like me let me shake your hand,

It means you’re an original piece of hand-made art.

If you’re a freak like me let me shake your hand,

You’re not a carbon copy of an original masterpiece.

If you’re a freak like me let me shake your hand,

You let the wet clay slip through your fingers forming what you were meant to be.

If you’re a freak like me let me shake your hand,

You let the paintbrush stroke the canvas just so.

If you’re a freak like me let me shake your hand,

You mixed the paints together, until you created a new color.

If you’re a freak like me let me shake your hand,

You blended the charcoal with your fingers until an image appeared.

If you’re a freak like me let me shake your hand,

You cut balsa wood until it bore soft, clean curves.

If you’re a freak like me let me shake your hand,

You made being different something special again.



No More

Rip my heart out and fillet it like a fish
Squash my self-respect and spit on it like trash
Call me out on every stumble I make as I walk life's path
Then trash me for pointing out you have fallen too

Call me every name in the book to make yourself feel better
You already decided a long time ago you stood above me on a pedestal
You throw my faults into my face as if it were acid so you could burn me
But when I copy your moves, it's an insult never to be forgiven

You never think you talk down to me as if I were a dwarf to your giant
You never see that you pierce me like a voodoo doll with your words
You only see the view from your side of the castle
You never see that from my side there is a whole other world

You think of yourself as an angel and decided to paint me as the devil
Yet you ignore the sight of horns and a tail in your own reflection
You know all my secrets, and all the demons that haunt me forever
But you keep me at arms length, not willing to share anything of your true self

Your knowledge never stops you from hurling my demons at me with glee
But if I get too close to a demon of yours, you wail like the banshee you are
Acting as though you were the first ever to be cut to the quick
By a person you thought you could lean on, on your weakest days

You never think that your words blow the pieces of self-esteem I try to gather away
You never care that it takes me years to pick up those pieces one by one
The only thing on your mind is your own reflection and what hurts you
Your side of the castle must feel nice and safe and secure

Too bad you destroyed mine with your razor blade words



Hard Drive


Control Alt Delete

Get you outta my mind

Reboot my brain

There’s a virus inside

You tricked me when I first saw you

You went by another name

When I looked inside you

You wreaked havoc on my hard drive

So get out the anti-virus program

And let’s send you to the trash

I’m revamping my disk space

And now you have no place.


Live For the Night


Darkness falls

like dying embers.

Lightning frames

the dying day.

Stars appear

to break the stillness.

Daytime shadows

arrive to play.

Fearers of the sun

so bright.

Bask in the night

live for the night.

The darkened corners

mask their forms.

Stay away from light

stay in the night.

From dusk ‘til dawn

it’s their domain.

For fearers of

a brand new day.

Dark cloaked night

is the one chance to play.

So stay in the night

and bask in the night.

Stay away from the light

And live for the night.



Sidewalk Cracks

I’m still afraid to step on the sidewalk cracks
Afraid just one of those childhood fears will prove true
Afraid some spider will sit down beside me and blow me away
You laugh, you mock, but what do you really know?

Nursery rhymes, fairy tales, where do they really come from?
Origins are often unclear, and who’s to say there really was an Aesop?
Who’s to say fairy tales are safe and sound when written by the Grimm’s?
A name which means sinister and stories about trolls eating little girls.

I’m still afraid to look under my bed when it’s dark outside
Afraid just one of those monsters we feared as children is real
Afraid some gremlin or boogeyman will pull me under the bed and eat me whole
You laugh, you mock, but what do you really know?

Legends, folk tales, they all had to originate from something
The tooth fairy is something wonderful now, but who’s to say how she started?
Who’s to say she didn’t start as some deranged, murderous madwoman?
Hell bent on collecting baby teeth for her own personal collection?

You laugh, you mock, but what do you really know?
Do you want to stake your life on it? Just let me know.


The Hand

Tumbling towards the edge of insanity
Clawing at the speeding ground under my nails
Trying to catch hold and stop myself
From plummeting into that black abyss
I put out a hand in search of help
Which only speeds up my downward journey
I can feel fingertips that I’m just brushing
Tears of frustration run down my bruised face
If I could just get a grasp there could be hope
But I continue fumbling with the helping hand
I try to dig my heels into the earth with no luck
All I get for my troubles is bloodied and bruised feet
The overwhelming pain is crippling and too much to bear
I stretch my arm out further, my hand reaching out
Skin brushing skin, warmth barely grazing warmth
I slide closer and closer to the brink of despair
I use all the strength I have left in the reservoir of my very being
And catch hold of that hand, being saved just as the earth gives way under me
A warm strong hand that never lets go and holds on with infinite power
Healing the bruises and broken pieces I have incurred over a lifetime
Filling me with a sense of peace I’ve waited my entire life for
I stare down at the dwindling wreckage of what was,
something I had to endure
And now I look up to the owner of that hand and smile,
Knowing what was in store for me had made it all worth it.





1 meaningful meanderings:

in time out said...

Wendy, I found your poetry this morning. YOU are AMAZING. Thanks for sharing with us. I really would love to just read your writing for hours.

someday....you should be published. this is so good.

happy turkey day. yes, many days from when you wrote this. i am reading you.....

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