Tag: moving forward

the chipping paint of time

brachiosaurus15Leave a comment

she sits atop the white picket fence

behind her sits the sturdy one story house with green grass cut in a perfect 90 degree angle

ahead of her lies the freshly poured concrete road

she does not see anything up the road, or nothing that she can see clearly

she’s drawn to the adventure of the clean and untouched road, but it’s intimidating

she’s even more scared to of what lies behind her

she’s afraid to fall into the tightly packed neighborhood and a life of plastered smiles

her hands grip the sun touched wood with the flaking white paint

the fence of youth will not hold her forever she must step down into her direction of life

Photo credit: Smalltown Stock-PhotoShelter

a step towards clarity

mypetlobster1Leave a comment

It still hurts, but it’s gotten to the point where I can look at the photos of us and smile instead of cry. I still love you and you still hurt me, but I’m slowly making steps towards letting it go.

The photo of us holding hands and the video of your precious laugh that made my eyes drown with tears just last week has changed now. Absentmindedly, today I found myself smiling at the good times we had.

Thank you for the good times, the giggles. Thank you for holding me and caring. Thank you for the caring gestures and kind words you said to me even if you didn’t mean them.

Everything you have done in the past month would lead any rational person to say that you never truly cared, but then again I am not your average rational person. I don’t think you ever meant it when you said you loved me, but I know that we had something special.

The fact that I tried to treat you with utmost kindness and care for you after how awful you were to me, proves that I’m not rational. Or maybe it proves that I was in love.

The fact that you have shut me out completely, made it impossible for any means of communication proves that you are not the person I thought you were, but it also proves that somewhere deep down you feel the pain of remorse for letting what we had go.

I know that part of the reason you broke up with me over text is because it would hurt you too badly to see the tears rolling down my cheeks that you once used to kiss and touch. I know that part of the reason you blocked me on every communication platform and got your friends to do it too is because you don’t want to face the fact that you hurt me.

The reasons behind your actions don’t make them okay. How you treated me in the end is not okay. Lying to me and blaming your personal issues on me because you knew that I cared for you enough to take your BS and believe that I was the bad guy is not okay. But this will never change the fact that for a point of time, you brightened my days, you filled me with a sense of love and joy I don’t think I’ve ever felt before, and for a point I believed, and I still believe, that you truly loved me.

I still wear the necklace you gave me and the matching ring we have still remains in my room.

You hurt me, but you also loved me and I’m finally making steps towards letting you go.

Photo Credit: tumblr.com

Curtain Call

callmemaybe32Leave a comment

As this year is drawing to an end, this is my last mandatory blog.

I wanted to take a second and thank all you have read my blog through my year in this class, but this isn’t the last of me.

I plan to be blogging this summer through whatever adventures I may encounter, but I will be back regularly in a few months.

Many of you have enjoyed my poetry or sports stories this year so I will leave you with one last poem.

Thank you for bringing traffic to our site, and please spread the word.

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As it draws to an end so does this journey.

Another year, going nowhere, sitting in the same spot we were in, when the first day started.

The same spot we were in the first time my eyes met yours.

As I prepare to take my final walk out on stage, I would like to think I’d see you in the audience.

The applause resonate through the building, and I stand behind closed curtains.

Shaking, nervous as could be, hoping you’ll be there, but when they open and I take my final bows, where the applause once were, lay and emptiness.

My heart drops, and once again I feel alone.

Just as I did when this show began.

This is the kind of show I never want to see the end of, but you hold my head towards the screen.

I would like to live in the illusion I have created of how our show ends, but instead you put me in front of everyone, only to find myself standing alone, and you aren’t even there.

I take my bow to an empty room, but it does not stop.

The show must go on.