Life, we must not regret

Life, we must not regret,
for it is all we have
with each word
with each moment
and every action
we create our path.
With every choice
                   right or wrong
we create our future
our paths are our own
no one else gets to make them
At times, we share our path
with people we care about
and others
who we think care
                       but don't
oft-times we walk alone
treasured are those times
we walk in company
but our paths are our own
and our lives to make
Life, we must not regret,
for it is all we have. 

The hardest part

                The hardest part of being a writer is when the words don’t come. When the hands can’t hold the pencil, and the fingers can’t type. When the mind is too full to focus on words, and you just want to shut down. When you just want to sleep. The hardest part of being a writer is the writing. The writing kills you. It bleeds your soul out onto the page for the entire universe to see, and then it leaves you. Empty.

                The hardest part of being a writer is when you don’t want to be a writer. When you just want to run away from your thoughts and cares and worries. When the whole entire world is arrayed against you, telling you it can’t be done. The hardest part of being a writer is being a writer. Being a writer leaves you lonely, with naught but your thoughts for company. Thoughts that can kill you. Thoughts that can rebirth you.

                The hardest part of being a writer is accepting a blank page as it is. Some days a blank page is what you need. Sometimes a blank page is not defeat. Sometimes it’s a respite. The hardest part of being a writer is seeing the point of it all. When the weight of the world is crushing you down, and you just need a break from it all.

                The hardest part of being a writer is carrying on. And yet, carrying on is all we can do. Sometimes, the hardest part of being a writer is simply being.  

broken help

write something cheerful
for it will make cheerful you who are not
smile until the frown is forgot
ignore the pain -- it won't last
it's just a state of mind
so change your mind -- change your mood
get some more sleep -- you're just tired
you need some fresh air
have a cup of tea
have a drink
have a smoke
Fuck. Off.
Be quiet
I hear enough voice
calling me
demanding me
commanding me
you don't know
you don't understand
these lies you parade as truths demean
                                                 devalue
they add to the struggle
the hindering help you thoughtlessly provide
broken you maim me
broken I am
              broken by the faith I put in you
              broken by the trust I placed in you
              broken by your help
all these lies clambering to help
buried by advice
suffocated by help
the depression wasn't enough to break me
                     maybe your "help" is

The conflication of emotions

Some new poetry for you to sink your eyeballs and mind into. You're welcome for that image! 

1.

Attempting to write again

much like trying to live again

to get the lead flowing

to get the heart pumping

pressure on the page

pressure on the chest

Attempting to write again

trying to live again

are the same things

                                yet different

to write again

to live again

one simply needs

                                                purpose

                

                and a reason

                and a want

maybe you’re my purposereasonwant

maybe you’re not

                but

                     for now

                                               

                                you’re enough for me

               

                                                                to write again.

2.

The pencil, long since fallen

stares sullenly silent

condemning its ultimate betrayer

the writer whose hands forgot it

and whose mind rejected it

rejection stings

                                even a pencil feels pain.

3.

Jumbled thoughts

conflicting emtions

shit. write plainly.

Happiness & dread comingling

in a confusing dance

Joy & fear sparring in the back

fighting for dominance.

worry for one thing

hope for another

neither giving way

neither gaining

locked in a bitter embrace

when time conspired to give joy

                                                it gives the other also

time gives & takes

                                often at the same…