Lots of Stuff

Like a Stone

Pressure always building
in my chest.
Tension, I'm on edge.
What is this anticipation
that I feel?

Like stepping to the end
of a very steep cliff,
all I know is the long way down.
The time is coming,
for what, I don't know.

When the moment arrives to leap,
leap into oblivion,
the sky,
my soul,
I'll either fly-
or drop.
Like
a
stone.


Victory and Pride

Arguments and anger
make so much sense
in the start.

Indignant and
self-righteous,
the yelling begins.

But yelling turns
to crying turns
to wondering
what have I done?

The long battle
has commenced
and there is no turning back.

Victory never tastes as sweet
as we think it will.
But pride, foolish pride,
makes us eat our triumph
with a smile.

Fight or Flight

I'm not much one for
talking about things
that can't be laughed off or forgotten.

I'd rather keep things light
so my baggage won't
weigh me down.

Tension and
uncomfortable feelings-
t0 me-
just aren't worth it.

When things get tough,
really start to matter,
consider me gone.
Flight over fight
will win every time.

Dreaming in the Daytime

Flickers of memories
fly through my mind
like pictures in a flip book.
But
not many pictures are connected.
They move too fast
for me to tell if they're real.
Memories
Old dreams
new endings
or fresh ideas?
I can't tell the difference.
Forgotten friends,
tucked away in the recesses
of my brain,
smile at me-
younger me-
and fade away to the
next pictures.
Inconsequential moments suddenly echo,
linger, in my thoughts,
as I stare out a window-
eyes, unseeing,
but
mind, alive.

Anger

HIT ME!
Go on, please.
Do it.
Hit me.
At least then,
I wouldn't feel wrong
for feeling so angry.
I can't go on,
day after day, being
the person everyone expects me to be.
I've had such high standards for myself-
it's everything, who I've become.
The pressure to be what I want
is making a hypocrite of me.
So HIT ME!
Please hit me-
so I can hit back.