Wish You Were Here

I wish you were here so we could talk
So I could hear your voice
And ask your advice
I miss you so much sometimes
And wish life had been different
To the hellish mess it has been
I no longer care about the hows or whys
Of what happened
It is what it is
But fuck I wish you were here
To help clean up this mess you made
Because I get so lost and lonely

Seeking Answers

Humming machinery
A television
Traffic
Sounds of the night
Interrupting the silence
The night would hold
As I sit in this place
And wonder about how
It will all unfold
I hate the insecurity
The anxiety
The fear
It eats away slowly
At my insides
I bargain with God
But feel he has long
Given up on me
And my demands
What is it I’m meant to do?
What’s the purpose
Of all this chaos?
Will I be okay?
How do I get through?
Funny, the only thing
I’m not thinking about
Tonight, is you

A Year Ago

A year ago, I was happy.
A year ago, I was me.
A year ago, I was free.
A year ago, I was confident.
A year ago, I was resilient.
A year ago, I felt cognizant.
A year ago, I was enthusiastic.
A year ago, my mind wasn’t so spastic.
A year ago, I didn’t feel plastic.
A year ago, I felt I had potential.
A year ago, anything seemed possible.
What the hell happened?

Never-ending Why

Processing
Understanding
Making sense
Applying logic
To the illogical
Cursed by this brain
Always wanting
To know why
Faith
Trust
Patience
Envious of those
Who possess such traits
Need a fortune teller
A prophet
Anyone or anything
That can explain
The never-ending why

Who Am I?

Sometimes I feel so old, and so tired, I don’t even know who I am. I mean, I know my name, of course, and I know I am a woman, but who am I? What do I value? What do I believe? What do I think? What do I want?

You must think I’m mad. How could anyone not know who they are?

Tears

Finally, at last,
Here come the tears,
The dam wall burst,
After all these years.
No longer able,
To be strong.
Let go of the cable,
Stopped holding on.
Consumed by the flood,
Will possibly drown.
Dust turns to mud,
White streaks in the brown.
Unable to think,
While the river flows,
Might need a drink,
The desire grows.
This too shall pass,
Or so they say,
But all that I ask,
Is to live through the day.