Posted in My life - Written by God, produced by 21st Century middle America, and lived by me, myself, and I., Poetry, Uncategorized

The rain against her window echoed through this hollow room with every drop, loud enough and long enough to drive away rational thought. If he was ever going to do it, tonight would be the night to tell you, my darling, sweet dreams.

Slightly, as if by pure coincidence,

This door on her right creaks open

Filtering stale light, pale dust,

From a lifetime set in mellow tones;

Dimming lamp shades that still reflect

Mistakes she wears upon her sleeve.

Her selfish thought today?

“I wish these scars would just fade away…”

 

Is freedom being able to make your own choices, then living with the consequences of those choices? Then why does it feel right to make this decision, when it’s the coward’s way out, free of consequence? Must be because I’m so fucking pathetic…

 

I am not the flower that touches delicate skin

I am the thorn of shadows the clouds rain in

I am not the bristling, inviting spring wind

I am the cold winter whipping at all your barred sins

I am not comforting hands that feel the same as home

I am the darkest roads abound; forever left to roam

I am that falling, failing feeling in your gut

I am that gnawing, aching pain of a cut

I am that harlot, that distasteful slut

I wish to be free, yet I am anything but

Author:

I believe all people are bits and pieces, and throughout life we can gather pieces from others or give some of ours away. Some people are only out to take everything they can, while others will give until they have nothing left, but most of us fall in between. And yet there are those people who will defy all logic and simply toss there pieces into the trash, for nobody and nothing at all. I don't know if it's possible to get back those pieces that have been thrown away, but this blog is all about my journey, to try and find out if someone who threw away everything for nothing can find something, or anything at all...I'm just looking for a reason to keep on living.

One thought on “The rain against her window echoed through this hollow room with every drop, loud enough and long enough to drive away rational thought. If he was ever going to do it, tonight would be the night to tell you, my darling, sweet dreams.

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