Wednesday, April 13, 2011


 I realize that the following poem is going to sound terribly depressing. But what good is poetry if it doesn't express how you are truly feeling? No facades, no masks, just words. I've been dealing with a lot lately. I can't say much more than I'm scared. So I'll let this poorly written poetry suffice for an explanation.

Standing on the brink:
Will I float or will I sink?
This fear is overwhelming me
I merely float upon this sea.

I cling to my fears
And I let go of my hopes.
This is folly at best; my heart
Is beating out of my chest.

The waves crash over
My head and my heart.
I should have taken
Your hand from the start.

You throw out the raft.
I shouldn't have jumped
Off of the edge of my heart
In to this slump.

Wrap a rope
Around my fears;
Strangle them,
Bring them to tears.

I do not want this despair I feel
Love? Hope? This fear is more real
To my shaking hands and my stone cold heart.
Could you wake me up? Pry me apart?

I cannot face this alone
Oh God, hold my hand
Don't let me be stone!

Apathy is worse
Than dying alone.

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