August 11, 2010 § 2 Comments
So I need your help. Think carefully before answering; imagine you actually have to answer WHY, and not just what. For example (and yes, it’s just an example so feel free to choose that answer), if you pick ‘life’, don’t just choose it because without it you can have none of the rest. Think about QUALITY of life and everything else that’s important, then pick your answer.
Promise I have a good reason for this poll, and I’ll explain it all soon as the poll closes on Monday the 16th of August 2010, at 2359 hours… *suspense*
Please answer? 🙂 Thanks
May 18, 2010 § 9 Comments
When I used to get emotional – angry, sad, scared, confused, hurt, lonely – I would sit down, and just write and write poetry (sometimes 5 or 6 in one sitting) until eventually my energy would be channelled away from what I was feeling, and into what I was saying. Then I’d stop. I don’t believe I’m particularly talented or gifted at it, but it’s what would get me through those dark spots. About two years ago though, I guess I just felt too much at once, you know? And nothing could help. I haven’t written a poem since.
I’m trying to get back some of the old me. I used to be so wonderfully creative – I wrote short stories, I wrote poems, I played piano, I sung… But I just dropped everything one by one, and now i feel so…dry. And devoid. Of course I’m not yet ready to just pick up a pen and get back to it, but I’m hoping for inspiration. So I’m going to start by posting maybe a few of my poems, maybe even a story when I’m ready, and then hopefully, eventually, i’ll be brave enough to reopen that chapter of my life.
So, these poems have been shared with no one. EVER. I’m literally shaking at just the thought of putting them out there for someone, anyone to see. But I invite criticism. I last wrote when I was 17, and I started at about 13. Since I figured out the importance of dating my work way too late, everything I post, until I eventually state otherwise, is from that period of my life.
They’re really not very good, I know, but hopefully I’ve grown (still am) since then.
So here’s one:
I clutch the pieces of my heart close to me.
The blood drips between my fingers
Yet my eyes remain dry.
Another piece falls out and I choose to let it go
Or risk losing the rest of me.
I can never be whole again
But I will remain strong!
Don’t look into my eyes
Ignore my despair.
My heart is breaking
And no one even knows.