when a person decides
they visualize
a certain chemical explodes
their brain
an abnormal reaction
where the opposite of thrive
becomes that option
the finale.
when a person decides
they visualize
a certain chemical explodes
their brain
an abnormal reaction
where the opposite of thrive
becomes that option
the finale.
So many times, instances
the words seemed right
for the moment,
the listener
a hurting heart would
suddenly find a smile
again, there would be that smile,
that’s what we would hang onto
for inside the memory
of a hurtful mind
is still a nostalgic recall
of one time,
one beautiful glorious sunshine driven morning,
when eyes did light up
without effort,
they were just there waiting
for mine to open,
and you were always there,
waiting,
I could count on closing mine,
testing you,
and yes,
your eyes were there waiting
always for me to find some soft shelter
in your love
But then the stars,
the metaphor for your eyes,
faded inside the clouds
and the moon we both could see
could no longer
hold resonate
its purpose
for guiding our soul,
the only option remained
to let memory
stand in vigil with
candles of love.
When days, become weeks, become hours,
become minutes, become a flash
of reasoning, become a circle of deceit
never intentional
always irrational
when love turns away
suggests another day,
this one was meant
to be not what we wish or believe
yet instead only to become
what is now,
certain
without any hope,
all indifference
will be the guiding energy
shallow in its dreams
that once held the waves of an ocean tide
deep in the sea of fantasy
beyond any reality
a fisherman might watch a dive
get out of my dream
suggests the angry soul
lost now forever inside a cavernous
prison of sweet remorse.
I have this favorite chair, with everything I need around me. A little table nearby holds my books, papers, my headphones and other assorted knickknacks, a journal I wish I would write in more often than I do. My phone is on the armchair so if I get a text or anything it lights up, and sometimes that’s really all I need to feel like I do exist.
I have this world here around me that lives by a routine familiar in homes across America. There’s a puppy running about finding life, their security in knowing these two human beings she sees every day will keep her safe and she will try to make them both happy, just by being an animal of unconditional love. Right now she’s on the hunt, looking for one of probably a half a dozen tennis balls strewn throughout the house. Her distraction, her toy, her training – ‘Go get the ball, now drop it,’ – everyone’s happy.
Yet, something is missing, and has been for quite some time. I have lived in a world where I have forever tried to define who I am based upon the world around me. Sometimes it works and other times it leaves me devastated and rather lonely. Over the years I’ve grown to understand this isn’t singular, that a lot of people experience the same thing We all just deal with loneliness in a different manner than each other. That really is what it is, and it is the reason I do cry sometimes. It is that element of loneliness that exists in my life.
On the outside and actually it isn’t always hidden as well as I would like, lives a man who carries himself well as an advisor of students, makes decisions that impact their lives in ways he might never imagine, but does so in as gracious a manner as possible. He is a passionate man, one that believes in love and happiness, and feels that everyone should contribute to the happiness of those around them as well as themselves. If these tenets are not lived out then this man takes that negative outcome personally and believes he has failed the world around him. Then come the tears.
Then comes the helpless onslaught of emotion that he has never quite gotten a handle upon. Sitting in his chair, isolated in his own world, a commercial comes on TV that talks about living out our dreams, and he holds onto quiet tears not allowing anyone nearby to notice. He might walk into another room, and be so overcome with emotion he gasps at the reality of his despondence and cannot give anyone a reasonable reason why. Honestly he is unable to give himself a reason why, except to suggest to himself he has allowed love to become the central focus of his life.
I cry sometimes – a love story.
If, we might know lives
could hold special
the silent beat in our heart,
that rapid fire release of some
no longer defined
passion,
yet, strength is the beauty of
spontaneity,
that surface level reaction
that will,
yes,
that will want to,
yes, take a dive
jump in completely
for the waters are suddenly
given a sweet peace,
that settling glass
that rather than shatter in the icy depths
of indecision,
do in this moment
warm to touch,
her touch,
simple, sweet, surreal
we do, if, want somehow
to hold on …
Telling my story while on my healing journey
They're mine, and yours 'cause our voice got lost somewhere in between. Welcome home...
So Dawn Goes Down to day
writings from my heart and soul
stories on adventure, and travel, and real life
Where Myths Are Maybe Real
Understanding ourselves and the world we live in.
poetry,writings,memories and more....
Concerning All Types Of Relationships
Children's book illustrator
Musings and books from a grunty overthinker
A Collaborative Mental Health Blog
A little bit of me, with a little bit of you. A little of the old mixed with the new. A little too loud, a little too shy. A little grounded and a little high. A little bit of sad and a little bit of laugh. A little bit of evrything i carry in my heart. This is my blog that highlights other works, for my poems and musings please follow me on http://myshellecongeries.wordpress.com/
loving the world through poetry