Shallow Thoughts

Sometimes simply writing is not enough. Sometimes it is not enough to express the whirling winds of my mind. A pure paragraph cannot make you see into my soul and drink in the intensity of my bones, but poetry? Poetry can. So here we go.

Shallow Thoughts 

She’d learnt to keep a shallow mind

So people didn’t have to swim

and it led them to think they knew

the thoughts she held within

but below the wading pool she’d made

Was a world left unexplored

An ocean of her feelings                                                                                                                        hidden under the pool’s floor

the waters turned to blackness

Where not even she dared to go

stretching from behind her eyes

to the ends of all of her toes

she didn’t want to dive right down

And find what lay hidden there                                                                                                          Because she knew with all of the deep water

come a deadly lack of air

but she didn’t foresee the lonely boy

who found a crack in her cement

Broke free of her wading pool

and into the darkness he went

he told her not to fear her thoughts

as he took her by the hand

and went with her to places

that their lungs could not withstand

in their new-found love they both forget

the importance of their breath

and interwoven in the world they’d found

they both drowned in its depths.

Yellow Paint.

I saw this today. You probably need to read it first before you read this. Because “yellow paint” sounds odd by itself. Kind of lonely without any explanation as to why I’m talking about yellow paint. Nevertheless – I want to talk about the yellow paints of our lives. Or I guess in this case , my life. My yellow paints at one point became self harm, including myself in a life where I ran away from everything, stealing, and drinking. All super unhealthy but I thought it would bring me happiness. Of course it did for a second, but after that second it only became sadness again. And don’t worry I’ll spare you the sappy details of how I met my first love and how he took away my want for those yellow paints. But the moral is that everyone , at some point, will have at least one yellow paint, and that is okay. But you cannot keep this color. For you must learn to change it out for better colors. Because if you keep this want for thing that are not good for you , you simply will not be you anymore. But a wall hiding problems beneath a thin layer of paint. And if I’m telling the truth there are much prettier colors than yellow.

However, have you ever seen an acrylic painting? Have you watched the artist take the brush and blend the most odd colors together and somehow, some way, form a masterpiece? Well, if yellow is the bad things in life we do to try to make ourselves happy there has to be other colors attached with other emotions. Although I do believe our canvases are pure when we are born. What sort of picture would our lives be at the end if they didn’t include some of every color? In other words I don’t think anyone can live their life without trying this yellow paint, and sometimes those mistakes or bumpy roads can be the very things that define us. So explore, try things, mess up, make mistakes, but most importantly learn.


Writing On Walls

I hid what you had done for what I believe you would do one day. You never apologized for anything, yet I accepted it. I wiped the tears you brought to my tired eyes before anyone could see. Physically you never hurt me. But mentally you tore me apart. What do you do when your first love turns out to be your first real hate? What do you do when they become someone you can’t even stand looking at? When the small hole in your chest that had been there before rips open wide and all of your insecurities lay bare to the world? When the you that stood with open doors and had trust in everyone suddenly became someone who double locked those doors on a daily basis? What do you do when the man you were talking about isn’t a lover, but a so called father? What do you do when you now have found the love of your life , but cannot bring yourself to trust because frankly…… you are scared of falling and not being caught, again? I do not have the answers to those questions. If I did I don’t think I would be asking them, but damn do I hope I find the answer soon. I guess sometimes the ones who break our hearts are not lovers at all, but people we expect to be there no matter what. Lovers will pass, lovers will slam doors they never reopen, lovers leave, and heartbreaks happen. But family? Family is supposed to stay. Through life though I’ve learned that not everyone does the things they are “supposed to”.


Deafening Silence

Short story type.

And then there was a long pause; a silence; the kind of heavy silence that you can feel in your chest., the kind of serene silence that reminds you of when you were a child watching the air bubbles break the surface tension of the water above you as you lay on the bottom of the pool holding your breath. The kind of silence that could make you cry without even realizing that you’ve been holding back those waves of salt behind your eyes for far too long. In that silence, that silence that spindles memories into flickering celluloid images flailing out of control as the world beneath you seems to stop on its axels. Your first thought: how did I get here? And the second thought: I do not deserve this.

New Beginnings

Well, here we are: my very first blog post. I am kind of excited to see where this new thing takes me. Maybe no one will ever read this, maybe a lot of people will. But that is not the point of this. The point is for me to express my feelings and find myself through my own sort of looking glass. I’m not sure it will be great, or even good for that matter. And if I’m being honest with you I’m pretty nervous. I guess we shall see.