No, i am not posting about a boy,
it's more of a story, an end to a journey,
and a beginning of an adventure,
no I'm not talking love, or of the male gender,
or heartbreaks ( in relationships that is.)
it's more like saying a final farewell to winter guard.
last week i wrote a poem after everything
had been over and done with,
i wrote a poem and honestly
poetry is my best friend right now.
it knows me in a sense,
i understand it,
and i can find what people are trying to say
or what i am trying to say, sometimes,
sometimes we just need to write.
sometimes you look at people you have known forever
and realize you don't know them anymore
I'm sorry to say that this has happened
but it has
but right now life is just something that some don't understand
and no it has nothing to do with the past few months
more of the past few years
that no one has seen
or heard of except one possibly two people.
i have been trying to see the distance of how far i have come
since i had taken those steps backwards and i have seen them
but every day i seem to just look at everything as a whole
instead of taking it slowly and honestly i get scared.
i get scared a lot. more than any of you possibly know.
not of horror movies
or people sneaking up behind me and screaming
but of myself i have come to realize.
sometimes i wake up in the middle of the night
and just walk around my house
and wonder and think of, things of people,
of real and fake,
of life and death,
of friends and enemy's,
of lies and trust.
but sometimes i just write.
more like type on my little
(more like huge) computer in my room
and just write my feelings and ideas.
it's what i live for.
the moments of just simply putting words on paper
weird i know but i love it.
now with that introduction of what seems to be
my whole life story here's my poem if you care to even read it
An unrequited journey...
The absence of something real you felt still lives inside your head.
wanting to break even with the thoughts that were never said.
the absence of love is what you have
waiting and longing for more.
you wish you never opened that gateway to the core.
the core of which we speak is among living and of dead.
living in each, with memories, inside of all our heads.
death as in all the separation of time waiting to the day
in which we say, the absence has gone from mine
living in each moment just seeming to stand still.
waiting in the pasture on a soft green tall hill
waiting to see if it was even real.
comparing to others, looking for more.
opening and closing too many doors.
you go back to one that keeps calling you in.
saying to you, "please, open me again."
it was the first door and it was the last
what seemed so fragile then is no longer glass.
the difference is the key is there to stay at last.
breaking down the door of what you did before
doesn't have to happen anymore
beginning to end you felt all of the wind.
no shortcuts, no tricks, no mimics,
just sticks
it hurt while you searched and knocked on all of those doors
but it was worth the work of finding the one you have seen before
unrequited you are no more
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