Monthly Archives: May 2012
It’s not like I’m dying for suicide.
I’m just at a constant struggle with life’s high tide.
“Sink or swim” I no longer want to abide by.
This undescribable feeling is weighing me down.
Like a boulder with three tons of hate promising me to drown.
Allowing me only a brisk touch to the water’s crown.
With my child’s face, the water’s surface is stained,
Call me crazy, call me insane.
Call me twisted for referring this poem to her name.
Although inside I’m dying, I push harder.
And with every strength I fight because of my daughter.
She’s worth dying for to try and keep my head above water.
City of dreams
City of yellow cabs
City of lights
Skyscrapers touch the sky
Skyscrapers towering over the ants of people
Skyscrapers that can’t be compared to even the tallest tree in the forest
Lights saying go this way
Lights saying go that way
Lights that pedstrians refuse to follow.
Buildings dressed in burned red bricks
Buildings laced with rusted fire escapes
Buildings with so much hidden within, so little time
People rushing here
People racing there
People running to everywhere, to anywhere
Anywhere and everywhere!
A part of me is excited to walk amongst
The people who walk as if life is a runway
A part of me is terrified of the barbaric traffic
A part of me wants to know what all the hype is abouy
And what a hype it is!
Constant noise from cars zooming by
Constant honks from impatient drivers to slow bystanders
Constant life as the day goes to rest and the night comes alive.
Sometimes I lay in bed wondering
“What the hell was I thinking?”
Again, trapped in the same quick sand
of my love for you that sinks me in so deep.
You wouldn’t know that I’m struggling to
keep myself above the surface,
trying to breath what little air I have,
as you lie there peacefully in a sleep.
I watch you so often the structure of your
face is sketched in my mind, the baby-like
slumber that disguises everything about you
and for once it’s as if you’re meek.
And although I silently lay, inside of me
screams, in hopes that you will hear me,
awaken you from your dreams, then
maybe you’ll know my love for you is making me weak
The door that could free me, still remains closed
and it’s not that I’m unable to open it, but it’s you
that stands between, unable to love me, yet unable
to let me go. Selfish, you are but in love with you I am,
unable to speak.
Black, the color of
Asphalt heated by summer’s scorch and
Cleansed by the
Knitted drops of rain.
Black is the dirt that is hidden
Underneath all the shame
Reduced to a mere
Nothing, dust, nonexistent
Eventually not even love can
Remain on a back burner.
Yesterday I wanted to be a doctor.
Last week I dreamed to be a singer
And last month I work hard to be an astronaunt.
Last year being in a circus looked pretty appealing.
However, today I decided I could be whatever I want
And tomorrow I shall see what I desire to be.
I am wilted but I’m still here.
Withered and drawn,
I’m nonetheless rooted
on my ground.
Don’t be mistaken by my
shrunken, shriveled petals,
for I know to see sunshine,
I have to make it through the rain.
I am wilted, yes,
But I am still here.
Kindness is a weakness for the receiver.
Eventually, you would have proved
Yourself wrong and what you
Thought to be different from the last scenario,
Once again failed to uphold its promise.
Mistakes are made to be seen now that
You trusted too easily and there was
Hope that his emotions remain the same
Even though the person you devotionally love has changed.
As usual you’re left to question unarmored to
Retreat what you gave always effortlessly,
The keys to your heart.