Some days,
I open my mouth
to simply breathe
but instead,
poetry flows out of me
in torrential streams
enough to drown anyone
unlucky enough to be caught
at the wrong place
at the right time,
between me and my rhyme,
but hey,
on the bright side,
it’s always a nice day
for a swim.
When the hammer
that is your voice
strikes the cymbal
that is my eardrum
it shatters me
every
time
The reason I compulsively forget
everything you say to me
is so that I won’t become lost
dissecting everything you ever said to me
looking for signs of hope
which I know are not there
yet, find anyways somehow
overload, the cache was too big
purge, restart, repair, reconfigure
trying to erase the data you left
on my heart drive
but you’re like a master boot record virus
I need to flash my BIOS
to get you out of my memory
and I didn’t have time
to back up my system config
before you infected me.
— Virus, an original poem by PoetryGrrrl
Original Poetry is © 2011 PoetryGrrrl.com – all rights reserved – no reproduction without my explicit permission.
I am a full cup
one drop
will make
me overflow
I am a dam
weakened by
erosive forces
holding back a
thousand pounds
of pressure
but just barely
please send reinforcements
before it’s too late –
patch me, fill in
the cracks
— Pressure, an original poem by PoetryGrrrl
Original Poetry is © 2011 PoetryGrrrl.com – all rights reserved – no reproduction without my explicit permission.
Emptiness
that I cannot fill
Darkness
can’t see until
Morning
is too far away
Choking
with too much to say
Drowning
in the deepest abyss
Sadness
is there more than this?
Original Poetry is © 2011 PoetryGrrrl.com – all rights reserved – no reproduction without my explicit permission.
my love,
would you be surprised if you knew
that my every thought returns to you?
you’re the first thing on my mind when I awake,
breathing you in with every breath I take,
you’re the last thing on my mind as I fall asleep
and when I am lucky, I see you in my dreams;
you may as well be the blood in my veins,
for whenever you leave, I bleed to death
and am re-born when you return to me,
our visits too few and far between;
you’re all that I need, though you don’t see
that my heart is broken, for I will have to be
content with loving you from afar;
wanting you with all of my heart,
feeling torn to pieces whenever we part;
my thoughts are forever on you when they should not be,
for you don’t, and never will, belong to me,
and yet, knowing this, still I am not free,
a slave to what I feel and not what i think;
such hell and such pleasure in humanity.
Original Poetry is © 2011 PoetryGrrrl.com – all rights reserved – no reproduction without my explicit permission.
longing
for things that can never be
waiting
for my heart to finally see
frustration
need not lead only to pain
temptation
is merely inspiration with another name
for temptation need not be acted on,
and frustration can be channeled into other things;
waiting can become an exercise in zen,
and longing for something I can never have
is better than having no interest in life again;
at least it gives me something to feel.
Original Poetry is © 2011 PoetryGrrrl.com – all rights reserved – no reproduction without my explicit permission.
Electricity,
when your fingertips
brush against mine;
I become lost,
picturing our hands
intertwined;
I wish I could
trace the veins
in your wrist
with my lips,
nibble oh so lightly
on your fingertips;
In my imagination
I flirt with possibility,
savoring each sensation;
indulging in the fantasy,
despite certain damnation
should I ever waver
and succumb to temptation;
but tell me again –
if thought’s a sin,
aren’t I already damned?
What, oh what, is a mad girl to do,
when consumed with a burning desire
to give myself up; to follow you?
Sometimes my mind wanders
until I fear I can’t take it,
hopelessly tangled up in daydreams but
trying to appear normal, faking it;
caressing you with only the corner of my eye,
while striving to keep all expression from my face
trying so hard to seem indifferent, but it’s all lies –
I know I should be feeling such disgrace;
and make no mistake, I always do
shame myself, suspecting that
you’d hate me if you knew;
Or could you afford to be kind,
and forgive my transgression
since your presence torments me so?
and yet your absence is worse!
If I could master my emotions,
I would gladly reason this feeling away,
and feel only what I am supposed to feel,
and truly mean every appropriate word that I say;
but I am a creature of manic highs and lows –
my emotions strike me forcefully, like physical blows,
and my affections for you are so painfully intense
every word you say, I photographically recollect,
knowing full well that you never meant to move me so,
and yet I can’t help but find tiny shards of hope
laying around in all the things that you’ve said,
even knowing damn well that it’s all in my head;
all the while dreaming, dreaming, dreaming
these exquisite involuntary thoughts of you,
hoping you would forgive me if you knew,
desperately wishing I knew what to do
to finally get my mind off of you…
Written 1/13/2011, revised 1/21/2011
Original Poetry is © 2011 PoetryGrrrl.com – all rights reserved – no reproduction without my explicit permission.
“Solitude”, by PoetryGrrrl
Written 3-11-2010
I am no great beauty,
nor do I desire to be.
Neither am I a socialite,
or a drama queen.
I’m not really a joiner,
I am not “that kind of girl”
I’m not the type to receive gifts
like diamonds or strings of pearls.
Nor do I particularly want these things,
or assign them any intrinsic worth,
though from time to time I find myself
wondering which came first.
Was I different before I knew I was different?
Is this a “blessing” or a “curse”?
Was I always unusual, or has all this solitude
just made it more pronounced? Made it worse?
Often, when I speak, no one even hears.
Often, I’m quiet anyways, contemplating fears.
I have grown into such a skeptic,
I can’t seem to let down my guard.
But, often, months after the fact
I am vindicated in this regard.
Still, I can’t help but wonder,
if it is sometimes better to be
blissful, ignorant, open to danger
rather than safe and lonely, cynically?
Me, I’m the girl off in the corner
sitting by myself, oblivious, playing pretend
but if you take the time to get to know me,
you’ll find I’m a loyal and trustworthy friend.
I am opinionated and angry, yet very rarely mean,
and if you’re truly perceptive, you may agree
that your life would be boring and even incomplete
without me, and all of my eccentricities.
I am the girl your mother warned you about,
I will not be talked down to or be controlled.
I have done things you’ve probably never dreamed
despite losing this endless race against “getting too old”.
I’m also fat and godless, therefore a popular media target
for hatred and disdain, my better qualities often disregarded.
The size of my brain, in truth, larger than most,
yet not even considered by those who like to boast
that “only thin is healthy”, and “godless is not OK”;
both arguments devoid of basic human kindness,
championed by people who never think before they say.
Is being different from the prescribed “norm”
really such an unforgivable sin?
Or am I allowed to learn to someday be
comfortable in my own skin?
And I, for my part, while not always perfectly content
do not particularly desire to be desired, nor to be “in”,
nor a beauty queen, nor a teenager with perfect skin,
nor a super model, nor anything else that I can never be;
In truth, I am quite content just to be plain old me.
Original Poetry is © 2011 PoetryGrrrl.com – all rights reserved – no reproduction without my explicit permission.
Rippling on the water in the moonlight,
showing me my future, my past, and the current plight
opening the doors of perception, a private show
I walk the pathway to understanding all that I know.
I see reflections of things that hide only in shadows,
I hear echoes of thoughts better left unsaid
and all the questions left too long unanswered
that rattle around in my head;
These are the thoughts that haunt silences,
lonely hours, and the nighttime landscape;
they hide in shadows, waiting, hoping
to catch me alone and defenseless
so that they can pursue me
until I am panting, breathless;
once I reach safety, in the aftermath
I am still restless, but less reckless.
Original Poetry is © 2011 PoetryGrrrl.com – all rights reserved – no reproduction without my explicit permission.
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