POETRY
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R-18+ content warning.
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Forever Cursed To Sing
Can’t you hear
My silent screams?
Can’t you see
The rope’s sway?
My head is too heavy
To cradle in your arms
I’m loathe
To drive you away
The bridges we
Walked hand in hand
You returned in secret
To burn
Thus my fate
Is bound to yours
Now the mirror’s eye
Has learnt to yearn
I was blinded
By the shine
Of your porcelain
Handshake
Fooled into believing
That nothing
Would ever
Cause us to break
The memory
Of our time apart
Like the returning
Of a playground swing
Pushing against
Fate itself
Forever cursed
To sing
Oh how
I’ve learnt
To hold onto
All those toxic tears
Created and then
Faced together
You and I
Embodying each other’s fears
The embers of
Last night’s fire
Lie discarded
In their pit
Smoldering
As we dance around
No chairs left
On which to sit
Can’t you hear
My silent screams?
Can’t you see
The rope’s sway?
My head is too heavy
To cradle in your arms
I’m loathe
To drive you away
The bridges we
Walked hand in hand
You returned in secret
To burn
Thus my fate
Is bound to yours
Now the mirror’s eye
Has learnt to yearn
I was blinded
By the shine
Of your porcelain
Handshake
Fooled into believing
That nothing
Would ever
Cause us to break
The memory
Of our time apart
Like the returning
Of a playground swing
Pushing against
Fate itself
Forever cursed
To sing
Oh how
I’ve learnt
To hold onto
All those toxic tears
Created and then
Faced together
You and I
Embodying each other’s fears
The embers of
Last night’s fire
Lie discarded
In their pit
Smouldering
As we dance around
No chairs left
On which to sit
If this poem has resonated with you, I would love your support.
This poem is from the book, ‘A Requiem For What Could Have Been: Poetry For The Broken’.
Read more from the colleciton, download a free copy, or purchase as a Paperback, eBook, Hardcover or Audiobook.
Suffering Without Hope
One day I will wake
To find you hanging
Above a letter
I won’t need to read it
I already know why
You tell me daily
Different words
Same truth
Suffering without hope
I find myself
Silently mourning
A death
That’s yet to happen
Unable to stop
The inevitability
Of your choice
Despite knowing
You are making it
I should do more
But there’s nothing more I can do
Other than wait
One day I will wake
To find you hanging
Above a letter
I won’t need to read it
I already know why
You tell me daily
Different words
Same truth
Suffering without hope
I find myself
Silently mourning
A death
That’s yet to happen
Unable to stop
The inevitability
Of your choice
Despite knowing
You are making it
I should do more
But there’s nothing more I can do
Other than wait
If this poem has resonated with you, I would love your support.
This poem is from the book, ‘A Requiem For What Could Have Been: Poetry For The Broken’.
Read more from the colleciton, download a free copy, or purchase as a Paperback, eBook, Hardcover or Audiobook.
I’ve Sold You My Soul
With this book
I’ve sold you my soul
Put myself on display
Showing you my whole
Here
Do you see the hole?
What was left
After my father’s toll
A prostitution of pain
A sympathy payroll
Here
Do you see the hole?
What was left
After her thoughtless console
A pitiful attempt
To reclaim what he stole
I wrote this for me
There’s no other goal
Love it or hate it
Fuck you all
No
Not you dear reader
Just those close to me
Those who chose to troll
Those who attempted to control
Those who don’t know me at all
No
For you I extol
The healing granted
By planting the flag pole
Open your mind to gaze upon your soul
Write
Take back control
Step through the keyhole
Put it on the page
And remake yourself
Into a stronger whole
With this book
I’ve sold you my soul
Put myself on display
Showing you my whole
Here
Do you see the hole?
What was left
After my father’s toll
A prostitution of pain
A sympathy payroll
Here
Do you see the hole?
What was left
After her thoughtless console
A pitiful attempt
To reclaim what he stole
I wrote this for me
There’s no other goal
Love it or hate it
Fuck you all
No
Not you dear reader
Just those close to me
Those who chose to troll
Those who attempted to control
Those who don’t know me at all
No
For you I extol
The healing granted
By planting the flag pole
Open your mind to gaze upon your soul
Write
Take back control
Step through the keyhole
Put it on the page
And remake yourself
Into a stronger whole
If this poem has resonated with you, I would love your support.
This poem is from the book, ‘A Requiem For What Could Have Been: Poetry For The Broken’.
Read more from the colleciton, download a free copy, or purchase as a Paperback, eBook, Hardcover or Audiobook.
Seed
Sometimes,
I feel like a seed.
A potential inert,
A possibility to succeed.
So just put me in the dirt
And give me what I need.
How else can I avert?
How else can I exceed?
Other times,
I feel hurt.
Just a societal weed.
A potential victim on alert,
Nurtured only when I bleed.
I don’t mean to be curt,
How else can I plead?
How else can I divert?
How else can I be freed?
I am the hurt seed, the weed that’s only freed by the blood that it bleeds. Put into the dirt just wishing to exceed. Inert without encouragement, unable to succeed. Thus, I plead; Be alert to my need. Don’t divert or think me curt, I just want to succeed.
So just burry me
And perhaps this seed
Will grow
Into a weed.
Sometimes,
I feel like a seed.
A potential inert,
A possibility to succeed.
So just put me in the dirt
And give me what I need.
How else can I avert?
How else can I exceed?
Other times,
I feel hurt.
Just a societal weed.
A potential victim on alert,
Nurtured only when I bleed.
I don’t mean to be curt,
How else can I plead?
How else can I divert?
How else can I be freed?
I am the hurt seed, the weed that’s only freed by the blood that it bleeds. Put into the dirt just wishing to exceed. Inert without encouragement, unable to succeed. Thus, I plead; Be alert to my need. Don’t divert or think me curt, I just want to succeed.
So just burry me
And perhaps this seed
Will grow
Into a weed.
If this poem has resonated with you, I would love your support.
Watch this poem on YouTube
This poem is from the book, ‘A Requiem For What Could Have Been: Poetry For The Broken’.
Read more from the colleciton, download a free copy, or purchase as a Paperback, eBook, Hardcover or Audiobook.
blessed with life's baggage
contemplating suicide
is a luxury
i can no longer afford
i am blessed
with life’s baggage
weighed down by love
spurred
by the desire
to prove them wrong
cajoled into action
my inner voice
softly screaming
to be more
than a footnote
of failure
to act
in-spite of doubt
and fear of judgement
to resolve
to do everything
to ensure my legacy
when I die
i will die
having truly lived
contemplating suicide
is a luxury
i can no longer afford
i am blessed
with life’s baggage
weighed down by love
spurred
by the desire
to prove them wrong
cajoled into action
my inner voice
softly screaming
to be more
than a footnote
of failure
to act
in-spite of doubt
and fear of judgement
to resolve
to do everything
to ensure my legacy
when I die
i will die
having truly lived
If this poem has resonated with you, I would love your support.
This poem is from the book, ‘A Requiem For What Could Have Been: Poetry For The Broken’.
Read more from the colleciton, download a free copy, or purchase as a Paperback, eBook, Hardcover or Audiobook.
Lifeblood
Not yet dead
The demon
Writhes
On the page
Lacerated
By the light of attention
It stares
Horrified
As it’s lifeblood
Becomes the ink
Of its own
Eulogy
Not yet dead
The demon
Writhes
On the page
Lacerated
By the light of attention
It stares
Horrified
As it’s lifeblood
Becomes the ink
Of its own
Eulogy
If this poem has resonated with you, I would love your support.
This poem is from the book, ‘A Requiem For What Could Have Been: Poetry For The Broken’.
Read more from the colleciton, download a free copy, or purchase as a Paperback, eBook, Hardcover or Audiobook.
Uncontainable By The Bondage Of Words
Uncontainable
By the bondage
Of words
Its nature
Is unexplainable
Nameless
And
Formless
Yet more whole than
The even most perfect
Analogy can imply
To say it acts
Is a lie
To say it is
Is a lie
Even to call it ‘it’
Is a lie
Yet it acts
As it is
And as it does
In its way
Unfathomable
And unknowable
To everything
Other than itself
This
Despite its
Impact being
Forever felt
By everything
Or
perhaps not
As its very nature
Invalidates these words
As well as your interpretation of them
Uncontainable
By the bondage
Of words
Its nature
Is unexplainable
Nameless
And
Formless
Yet more whole than
The even most perfect
Analogy can imply
To say it acts
Is a lie
To say it is
Is a lie
Even to call it ‘it’
Is a lie
Yet it acts
As it is
And as it does
In its way
Unfathomable
And unknowable
To everything
Other than itself
This
Despite its
Impact being
Forever felt
By everything
Or
perhaps not
As its very nature
Invalidates these words
As well as your interpretation of them
If this poem has resonated with you, I would love your support.
This poem is from the book, ‘A Requiem For What Could Have Been: Poetry For The Broken’.
Read more from the colleciton, download a free copy, or purchase as a Paperback, eBook, Hardcover or Audiobook.
Candle
I’d like to be able to claim
That none can hold a candle
To your brilliance
But the truth is
They are but mere candles
Before you
Their light
Only blinding
Against darkness
Only blinding
In your absence
I’d like to be able to claim
That none can hold a candle
To your brilliance
But the truth is
They are but mere candles
Before you
Their light
Only blinding
Against darkness
Only blinding
In your absence
If this poem has resonated with you, I would love your support.
This poem is from the book, ‘A Requiem For What Could Have Been: Poetry For The Broken’.
Read more from the colleciton, download a free copy, or purchase as a Paperback, eBook, Hardcover or Audiobook.
Once More
Once more
I wake
Finding myself adrift
Lost in thoughts
Of things
That will never happen
That can never happen
An ocean of possibility
Extends in every direction
Yet I fear
Leaving the safety
Of the anchor
Of the known
Once more
I wake
Finding myself both
Aimlessly drifting and unequivocally struck
Chastising myself
For not staying still
For not moving on
This poem is from the book, ‘A Requiem For What Could Have Been: Poetry For The Broken’.
Read more from the colleciton, download a free copy, or purchase as a Paperback, eBook, Hardcover or Audiobook.
Not Safe
It’s not safe
For me to be alone
But it’s not pleasant
To be in my company
So how can I
Ask for you
To waste this day
Comforting me?
This poem is from the book, ‘A Requiem For What Could Have Been: Poetry For The Broken’.
Read more from the colleciton, download a free copy, or purchase as a Paperback, eBook, Hardcover or Audiobook.