I've been meaning to ask.
Does it matter if i say what I mean?
Others tell me I'm mean to them.
Does it mean anything?
If you smell something and it reminds you of childhood and you tell someone else this and they have an inadequate response....are your memories useless?
No one will remember me.
I'm floating on a sea of endless waves.
I see your face and call for aid.
You smile blandly as you shade your eyes from the sun and wave.
Is it me or are you really the lost one?
I feel the coldness of the ocean seep into my skin.
My face burning in the light.
I feel the sadness dripping through my heart again.
But, really, I promise, I'm alright, don't worry, I'm alright.
I smile and make a joke and pretend that I'm on land.
When really I've already drowned.
There's no saving me now.
The heavy fruit keeps falling from the tired branches of the tree.
The dirt winds 'round the roots.
The wind flows gently through my hair and 'round my skin.
I'm so glad for this silence.
Poetry is flowing words directly from your heart, your soul, your essence.
It is not how many syllables you utter but only the meaning behind them.
What abject sillyness in trying to bring order to that which is inherently chaotic.
The end is not a beginning in disguise.
Every new beginning does not require something else's end.
Sometimes things just