Ah Loren. You make those choices far too understandable, even for those that don't suffer as you do. It will be no comfort, but each word of this hit home like that sucker punch from your earlier snippet; you describe your reality to bleak perfection. Let such words and imaginings ALWAYS be enough of a buffer, until such a time as you don't need the buffer any more because you have hope, instead. And let that time come soon.
Darga - Thank you.
Maybe I should just stop posting stuff here... :/ I get the feeling that most of you don't want to know...
It’s like a train entering a tunnel – you can see it coming, see the walls of the embankments rising up and up around you until they join over your head and swallow you up – but there’s nothing you can do to stop it. You just keep rushing towards it at full speed, knowing there’s no way you can avoid that all-consuming darkness.
Or it’s like the moment before a head-on crash, when you’re a deer in the headlights of the incoming vehicle, and their face is a mirror of your horror, but there’s no time to slow down or even swerve, and in that last moment, you must simply, or perhaps not simply, accept the inevitable.
I don't think it's a case of people not wanting to know. Not everyone checks Writersmerge as often as I do, that's all.
I care, Loren, and I believe many others on here who know you care, also.
I also believe the darkness is not as inevitable a you think. Thinking of you, as always.
Someone feel like telling me what genre I've been writing in? It's sure as hell not poetry, but is it too short to be prose?
The way I see it, there are three different types of rain. There’s the torrential type: the kind that soaks you to your skin in an instant; the kind that starts in a heartbeat and ends in the blink of an eye; the kind that makes all on earth cower before Mother Nature’s fury.
Then there’s the steady, drizzling rain: the kind that blankets the city in thick grey clouds; the kind that should be ridden out in bed with a good book; the kind that seeps into hearts and homes and, like the cloud over the city, blankets them in heavy grey despair.
The last one, though, is something different, soft and mist-like: the kind that catches in your lashes and sprinkles your face with stardust; the kind that you can stand in all day and not get wet; the kind that sometimes, you don’t realise is there until it’s gone.
I don't know, but does it matter? I love your description, even though I think rain is another analogy.
Mystic Ward
11 years ago
Mystic Ward
Twentyfamilies Gypsy
Ahh Loren, these last few pieces shoot straight to my heart. I think they are beautifully written and expressed feelings. Dark feelings maybe but they tell the truth, each and every one. I'm glad that you are able to write these feelings out rather than acting on them. That's what I do as well and I don't think any genre really covers it. You could incorporate some of these snippets into a longer piece of writing or re-format them into poetry.
Hope you feel better soon, and can write those feelings out as well. [act]hugs[/act]
I love reading other ppl's writings, especially this type, i have no clue what it's called, lol, but it's the type that changes your mental picture of something, it can be an emotion, an object, or even rain - but i love that someone's ideas about what rain is like can change how you view rain in your own mind.
I love it, it's beautiful.
Aww, thank you guys. ;R My inspiration for this was standing in the (third type of) rain at the bus stop, and that verse just sort of popped into my head fully formed. :P
Even when I'm not consciously writing about it, I'm writing about it... :/
An old poem written when I had no clue, revamped now that I know too well.
Falling for You
Falling...
Into your arms.
My soul aches, my eyes tear up, I stumble.
You're there to catch me,
Your arms so strong, so sturdy
Hugs so soft, so warm, and I'm
Falling through the sky, flying
On angel's wings I fall
In your arms I feel protected.
I Feel safe.
Falling....
Into your eyes,
Like the sky on a rainy day,
Your eyes clouded with worry
Stormy grey with flashes of blue;
They pull me in, and I'm
Falling through the sky, flying
On angel's wings I fall
I see my pain mirrored in your eyes.
I am sorry.
Falling....
In love with you
Every minute, every day
Your face echoes in my head
The smell of you lingers in my nose
I never dreamed I would feel
Like this
You were just a friend, but now I'm
Falling through the sky, flying
On angel's wings I fall
Beside you for always.
I wish.
So beautiful, Loren. The rhythm, the imagery -just perfect. And also so sad, knowing the context. xx
Agreed, Darga. I hope your not feeling completely terrible right now but know you can always message me. It's beautiful.
Not great, but..
My arms are a cradle
Hushabye
Sweet heart
Don’t fret, don’t cry
Hush and I’ll sing you
A lullaby
My arms are a cradle,
Your burden I share.
I’ll always be with you,
And never let go
For you I’ll be there
As we rock to and fro
My arms are a cradle,
My body the tree,
But this bough won’t break,
No, I will stand tall
I’ll help set you free
I won’t let you fall
Rockabye
Sweet heart
It’ll be alright
Be still my darling
I’m with you tonight
My arms are a cradle,
Your burden I share.
I’ll always be with you,
And never let go
For you I’ll be there
As we rock to and fro
My arms are a cradle,
My body the tree,
But this bough won’t break,
No, I will stand tall
I’ll help set you free
I won’t let you fall
Hushabye (hushabye)
Please don’t cry
(Please don’t cry)
You’ll be alright
With a lullaby
Rockabye (Rockabye)
You’ll get by
(Please don’t cry)
You’ll be alright
With a lullaby
My arms are a cradle,
Your burden I share.
I’ll always be with you,
And never let go
For you I’ll be there
As we rock to and fro
My arms are a cradle,
My body the tree,
But this bough won’t break,
No, I will stand tall
I’ll help set you free
I won’t let you fall
My arms are a cradle,
My heart for you bleeds
I’ll be with you always
I’ll help you stand tall
I’ll be there when you need
I won’t let you fall.
Pain burns, but a smile she shows
Hide it inside where nobody knows
And so it goes
On
Nobody cares which way the wind blows
Nobody any understanding shows
And so it goes
On
Blood from gaping wounds flows
Finally the pain it shows
But too late -
No longer does it go
On
Wow, all 3 of the poems are good, but this last one... is breathtaking. The short lines at the end of each stanza really hit hard, amazing poem. And sad, but painfully realistic.
Loren, that last one was horribly bleak and soooo effective. Like Dakosha says - both flawless. Lovely. I envy your way with words, though not the emotions that give them rise. Take care.
People are talking. Their voices blend and blur around me, a hundred conversations swirling, swirling through my head: Holidays and exams; people and places; hopes and dreams.
Normally my dreams are weirder than this.
I can feel the softness of a couch beneath me. I can feel the warmth of my body curled up on itself. I can feel the lump of my ponytail beneath my head, the bracelet on my wrist, the hands touching my crotch.
What?
But that's ok right? I mean, this is just a dream, right?
They're gone now anyway.
Normally my dreams are less weird than this.
But is this just a dream? The sounds are getting louder, coming into focus. I can feel a cramp starting in my right arm.
I open my eyes.
My best friend is sitting there. "It's time to go," he says.
I can't shake that dream. The sickening feeling of hands caressing me where they had no right to be. But it was just a dream. Just a dream. Right? He couldn't do that to me, wouldn't do that to me......would he?
I am not my illness.
If a depressed, anxiety-prone girl pushes her friends away to see if they care enough to follow, does she deserve it when they all abandon her?
I am not my illness.
If a schizophrenic girl has a hallucinatory episode and stabs someone, should she be held accountable for her actions?
I am not my illness.
If a suicidal girl clings desperately to the one person in the world who makes her feel safe, does that make her a manipulative [censored]?
I am not my illness.
Mystic Ward
8 years ago
Mystic Ward
Twentyfamilies Gypsy
Thought invoking. Have you written any more?
thats all I have so far. :/