posted March 16, 2008 10:29 PM            

I can't remember if I've ever posted this here. I looked, but I never titled it, so I'm not sure... anyways... I found it as I was unpacking, and felt like posting it. It rhymes, try not to smack me.

Never can seem to let go of the past
Sometimes I want to kick my own a$$
Whether it's pleasure or pain
It shatters me
Leaves me crumbling again
Voices I've heard
and faces I've seen
smash at my senses
Tear at my seams
The whispers of treachery
gurgles of joy
Times I've been potent
others, a toy
Can't help but feel vicious
borderline jaded
Cursing the skyline
the moments not faded
Scents bring back everything
make my toes curl
The blanket I've woven
starts to unfurl
Can't expect sturdy stitches
when lies are the thread
The patches seem worthless
the purpose is dead
By smiling and plotting
trudging through lies
All is forgotten
In the blink of blue eyes
Where have I gone
Dust settles, smoke clears
can't remember the difference
between malice and tears
In the mirror, I'm naked
Imperfections now showing
I must run away now
It's time to get going
The cords seem to tighten
each breath that I take
My dreams are all near casualties
each time I awake
I'm usually ready
Blade ready to snap
Any tie that will bind me
Into their trap
My soul grows so weary
sick to death of myself
Eyeing those skeletons
Not so high on the shelf
Filling time with complacency
Nodding dully at doubt
Throat closed with disgust
can't get the words out
Wanting nothing but silence
All I get is the din
Beauty is lost on me
Ugliness tries to get in
Blame is a weakness
the simple of mind
turn to in turmoil
they don't seek to find
Wish I could stop laughing
Wish I could try crying
So tired of caring
So tired of trying
Wasting my breath
on those who can't touch
Even my surface
it just burns too much
Sitting in the dark
with manufactured light
On the outside it's perfect
to those outside, it's right
When you're small it's all shallow
When you're nothing it's all
You can't see past the ending
You'll laugh through the fall
The ghosts seem to follow me
even when I run
Their eerie song calls
when I think that I'm done
I'm trying to shut my eyes
close my mind to all sound
These things should be buried
Six feet in the ground
It seems there's no place
to escape all the noise
When I try to ignore them
and I use all my poise
I'll keep running my own game
finding marks for my con
Being queen when i need to
and using my pawn
Someday she will catch me
for Karma's a b*tch
And she'll try to con me
she'll give me her pitch
I'll remember the highways and
long winding roads
Recall all the passowrds,
remember the codes
The scents of my lovers
the stories of friends
The rush from beginnings
the agony of ends
Somehow they'll make sense
and the road will be clear
I'll move forward with confidence
stare down all fear
Somehow after all
it will fit like a glove
after all of my running

posted March 17, 2008 10:53 AM            

But specifically, here in your poem, it gives your words a pattern that accentuates the syllabling rhythm. And what I love about it is that even with a pattern and a rhythm, you still get the feeling of chaos and disorder, of the ruining temper of your emotions which, I should say, seem to come across more as violent winds than tempest waters.

The poem reads like a run, too. Thanks for sharing!

posted March 17, 2008 11:15 PM              

What's wrong with rhyming? That was incredible, espcially this part:

quote:

---

Voices I've heard
and faces I've seen
smash at my senses
Tear at my seams
The whispers of treachery
gurgles of joy
Times I've been potent
others, a toy
Can't help but feel vicious
borderline jaded
Cursing the skyline
the moments not faded
Scents bring back everything

---