Posted in poetry

Trilogy of Tears

Part 1: The Tears


Right now I’m in a state of mind

That I never want to be

God if you’re up there listening

Have mercy on this planet and me


Tragedy strikes when you least expect

Bursts through the ground, destroying the blooming flower

When life nearly slips through your hands

You start to realize your lack of power


Twenty-two angels gone too soon

Five-hundred angels with battle scars to keep

And then there’s me, one broken heart

Who has been robbed of her sleep


Everywhere I go

There’s reminders to be found

Of the hatred and intolerance

That burned hope to the ground


I try my best to cover up

To be strong for those who need me

But even when i try to rise above

The despair just doesn’t leave me


So I turn the faucet all the way

Internalize the pain of my fallen angels

And cry puddles throughout the day

Away from prying eyes to see


Part 2: The Cave


It was a desperate time

I had to disappear

Stow away in a cave i built

Holding those i love near


The everlasting feeling of desolation

Had a grip on me so strong

That i had to go into isolation

To learn to live with this wrong


Wrestling with the darkness

And the sound of the aftermath

How could one be so heartless?

To spare no innocents from their attack


Through all the darkness shined a single light

Urging me to not give up this fight

The love and affection of those who adored me

Nourishing, gentle, sweet


The sound of music slowly began to return

And I rose like a phoenix from the ashes of my heart

Changed but yet the same

It was time for a brand new start


I’ve got to wrestle with this mentality

The time is now, to break free


Part 3: No Tears Left to Cry


Right now, I’m in a state of mind

I wanna be in like all the time

Ain’t got no tears left to cry

So I’m pickin’ it up, pickin’ it up

I’m lovin’, I’m livin’, I’m pickin’ it up…

Posted in poetry

For a While

I can hear the dynamite string sizzle

I can hear the bridge start to crack

I can hear the bell toll

But my ears don’t process them when I’m with you


The wind whispers to walk away

But in my heart I want to stay

Just to spend another day

With you leading me astray


The storm clouds drift ominously

But the sunlight is so nice right now

The thunder rumbles angrily to heed its warning

But I’m not ready for the final bow


Your twinkling eyes, your Cheshire-Cat smile

Make me want to just forget for a while

Posted in poetry

Museum of Broken Dreams

The mobile clinks and groans above the crib

Piercing through the silent air

It reeks of promise unfulfilled

In between its joyful melody


Teddy bears line the shelves

Dust bunnies on their noses

Their shadows cast darkly

Upon the walls with decaying roses


No eyes can see through the window

Stained in neglect

The curtains fall gracelessly to the floor

Where they are laid to rest


A rocking horse sits ready

In a corner so alone

Waiting for the rider

That never made it home


Strained ears can tell those sounds so muffled

Through the thin hollow walls

Dripping with longing and misfortune

A misfortuned woman bawls

Posted in poetry

Every Rose Has its Thorns

Some moments are made of eternities

They impart a sensation like nails on a chalkboard

Your existence is bombarded like an emotional tactical strike

And only then do you know what it is to live


The thud of the rose was no less than a grenade

As it hit the concrete bathed in hope-drenched sunlight

The wind wailed desolately in my ears

The frame was perfect, the picture distorted


There stood my love giving love to another

Planting sweet kisses onto lips that weren’t mine

Staring longingly into eyes that weren’t mine

Soft whispers of ‘I love you’ into ears that weren’t mine


I surrendered to my tears as they burned my cheeks

Rooted in the ground by my paralyzed feet

Sickly fascinated at my ruination

My tired eyes couldn’t seem to look away


Desperation crashed down on me like a waterfall

My soul could take no more

Stupidity soon followed

How could I allow myself to dream


Secretly i craved this form of torture

It became my favorite form of self-harm

Every sense of mine sought out their love

To burn into my memory with a cattle-prod


With every crumpled rose i grew desolate

With every lost love i killed hope

Maybe this was destiny

Maybe there is no other half of this heart of mine

Posted in poetry

Lost and Found

Closed off, couldn’t handle the pain

I slammed my doors and locked them


So the darkness wouldn’t drive me insane

Love was lost not to be found


I would peer through the keyhole

Shy away from the piercing light

Put thread and needle to my soul

To try and save the embers of my heart


Through twist of fate so benign

Our paths did somehow intertwine

Planting dreams of you being mine

Ever hopeful, ever frightening


Butterflies in my stomach, pure elation

When you dart so swiftly across my mind

In our moments of subtle flirtation

How simply you make me feel alive


Could it be that what was lost is forgotten

For something new to be found?


Posted in Reposts

Meet and Greet: 11/9/17

Dream Big, Dream Often


It’s the Meet and Greet weekend everyone!!  Strap on your party shoes and join the fun!  

Ok so here are the rules:

  1. Leave a link to your page or post in the comments of this post.
  2. Reblog this post.  It helps you, it helps me, it helps everyone!
  3. Edit your reblog post and add tags.
  4. Feel free to leave your link multiple times!  It is okay to update your link for more exposure every day if you want.  It is up to you!

  5. Share this post on social media.  Many of my non-blogger friends love that I put the Meet n Greet on Facebook and Twitter because they find new blogs to follow.

See ya on Monday!!

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Posted in poetry

Hiss Hiss

God how I love draining your venom from my neck

I get high off the feeling of being upset

Hypnotize me, then you bite me – repeat

But honey you ain’t seen the real me yet


I can see the scales under your trench

The way your eyes morph into slits

You’re stuck dancing with the snake charmer

It’s too late now to call it quits


No more will I be ingrained

By a friendly face so much like a stranger

Breaking free now, so long have i strained

To be rid of your danger


Hiss to your hearts discontent

Your crashing symphonies fade to static

I’m ready to be free now

So it’s time to face my magic

Posted in Creative Writing

A Spider’s Plight

Ignored by all, feared by most, the little creature quietly goes about its own business. Living in a world of its own, it sees miles where we see centimeters. Walking across the urban jungles of our homes it searches for its prey. Lost in a world of someone else’s design, caught in someone else’s web, the little spider is helpless.

It is simply a misunderstood soul. Only seen for its predatory appetite, the difficult existence of the poor spider is often ignored. It wanders trying to find solace, an escape into the realm of nature beyond where it belongs. It beckons us to show it the way with its eight beady eyes pleadingly staring at us and is rewarded with screams and panic. *Whack* the confused spider is startled by our sudden aggressive reaction. *Whack* but it isn’t stupid. It realizes the role reversal here, the whirlwind in which the predator becomes the prey. And so it flees finding a corner to cloak itself from further harm.

Its stomach rumbles but not for what’s in your fridge. It has no use for your otherworldly artifacts. Yet it yearns for the comforts of its own world. The spider thinks maybe you’ll be more cooperative if it helps you out. So it goes and finds those pesky flies and bees that you’re always complaining about. It’s time to get to work. With artisanal beauty it spins its own delicate web. Laboring over it for hours in an attempt to set the perfect trap, it looks down at its creation with pride. Trapping them in its web, it kills the lowly insects with ruthless conviction. Maybe now the humans will show it some kindness.

But no, nothing has changed. Its gift is ignored. No one comes and shows it the way. It is then that the little spider realizes that it must make its own way. Pleasing others to get its way will simply not do. And so the little arachnid races through the tiled bathrooms and wooden living rooms on its eight legs to find the way back to the greenery it calls home. What’s that? An opening? A window? But it lies at the top of an enormous tower. The spider steels itself and begins. Motivated by the thought of frolicking in the grass it climbs. Then as it reaches the midway point, the human appears. It knows that getting out now is a matter of life and death. It demonstrates remarkable agility as it dodges every shoe, every newspaper that the human throws its way. It is too close now and it won’t just give up. It fails to understand what it has done to invoke such undying hatred from our side. Like a hitchhiker you meet along the road, all it wanted was a little direction. With one final leap it crosses over finally escaping the concrete maze.

As it crosses through the greenery, it seems to calm down. There isn’t anyone to aggravate it now. It can live without fear. Once again it becomes dominant. It strides across the grassy lawn with pride. Order is restored and the little spider is where it needs to be. No qualms now, it can be what it was meant to be. It is where it belongs.

Posted in Reposts

Who, When, What, Why, How?

Hey everyone,
So one of my favourite people ever, the smart and beautiful Ms Brenda Lye, has started a travel blog! It would be great if you could go show her some love. Go like her posts, reblog and follow.
Much love 🙂 ,

The Adventures of Bren


Brenda here! If you’d like to know more about me, I introduced myself in my ABOUT page  so check that out 🙂

Firstly I’d like to start off by saying,

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