Finally 

Follow this amazing poet. Her words are real and raw.

Blank Sheets Haunt Me

I wanted to walk awayTurn my back and pretend you hadn’t just set all my emotions off track

I wanted to forget the late night conversations that awakened my spirt with palpitations.

I wanted to walk away

Turn my back and act like substance is what we lacked

I wanted to blame you for letting my feelings continue to grow

I did blame you because I knew what I felt had started to show

You know me well and every time I got to close you pulled away, but not too much because I think your heart actually wanted you to stay

I wanted to walk away maybe I needed to or maybe my lesson was to love more than I hurt

and find out if time would expound on our off and on flirt.

I couldn’t walk away because your heart is in mine and finally I think that’s…

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Saturday Nights

Most of the glory for people my age lies in the weekend. 20-somethings are the marvelous weekend warriors. Parties, drinking, and other revelries occur. It is July, summertime, my favorite season, and I look at Instagram photos and my friend’s snapchats, and the vacations and booze look fabulous. I, however sit here on yet another Saturday night alone finishing my research paper for my English composition 2 class. That is how it goes these days. I work all day, 5 days a week, and study/ do schoolwork at night. I have little time for anything else other than my immediate responsibilities.

 

I am not writing this blog post to complain. That is not the point. I am writing this to say that these are not my glory days, and I refuse to let my age tell me when that time is. My late teens and early 20’s are meant for work, and for building myself up so I can reach my goals. I do not regret my decision to work full-time and be a full-time student. The point of this post is to up build others who experience the same thing as I do. You are not alone. It sucks to feel like you are the only one who isn’t out there “experiencing” life. We, as we build our careers, our finances, and our families are not missing out on something. We are where we are supposed to be in this moment in time. So let us build our lives to enjoy 7 days a week, rather than just Saturday night. Let us have our own private dance party in between studying chapters in a psychology book, changing diapers, or budgeting our funds to save up for a home.

There is no shame in not being free to do as you fancy. My time is coming, your time is coming, and it will be better than we could ever imagine. All the things you want are right around the corner. So friends and readers of this blog I urge you to push further, study harder, and be the best you that you can be. I assure you the world isn’t ready for you yet. May there be many more Saturday nights ahead.

 

 

Aside

Fear

I like most people am afraid.

It feels good to let that realization out of my system so I don’t have to carry it around with me and pretend like I don’t have this ever present fear dwelling inside of me.

What am I afraid of you may wonder? I have just finished my first college class–it was an easy class, but now I am moving on to Intro to Psychology and Intro to Creative Writing. I am afraid that I am not smart enough to pass these classes. I am afraid that I don’t have enough time. I am afraid that I will build my hopes up and let myself think I am smart enough to earn a bachelor’s degree in English and creative writing only to fail. I am afraid to try. Mostly I am afraid of being great and also of not being great. It seems pretty insane when I write it down this way, but it is possible to want something so bad and yet not want it at all. I wish one day to write important things, grand things, things that may change someone’s life the way my life was changed by words. It feels so terrible and wonderful to know that we are not alone in this world. There are dreamers, thinkers, doers, and creators in this world. Perhaps they were all once afraid to try. I’m certain all of the great poets, writers, and authors were once rejected and torn down by every shut door and every no they ever heard. They did not let that fear keep them away. They did not let that fear extinguish their fire. No they did not let fear of rejection get to them. For they had a need to write down and share the words that spiraled in their minds waking and sleeping. If Oscar Wilde, F. Scott Fitzgerald, or Jane Austen are anything like me the unwritten words inside their heads would make them truly go insane.

I can’t keep my creativity hidden away. I won’t let the fear get to me. There are important things to be done in each person’s life for we are all given gifts, and what is a gift if we cannot share the joy of that gift with others. I was afraid to start this very blog. I thought no one would read it or care about the words I had so carefully written. For the most part I get a couple of likes and views here and there, and for now it is enough. It is more than what I thought I’d get and I appreciate each and every person that takes the time to read the work I share. What kept me going when I wanted to quit this blog was a simple comment on one of my poems titled “Bulletproof”. The lady commented and said it was just what she needed. That is all it took for me to want to keep blogging. I like the thought that something I write may be what someone needs to be encouraged, or to at least not feel so alone in that present moment in time.

I will go to school. I will learn more about writing. I will be afraid, but I will never let that fear keep me from trying or doing something I love.

Aside

Red Dress 

The girl with no name

The girl with the shame

Wears the red dress

So everyone can see

What a disgrace she seems to be

No hiding

No crying

She looks down knowing that they know

The secrets she’s kept 

The demons she hides

She won’t tilt her head up to look anyone in their eyes

As long as she wears the red dress

She will be alone

No love to call her own

It was a white dress

A wolf turned red

The night she took a stroll through the midnight city

Red, a scarlet color of blood 

Drained out of her, until her skin was white and her dress was red

A defining mark 

Victim of the beast

Don’t ever walk alone in the dark

Now she waits, now she wanders

In the hazy moonlight hours 

Stricken in her sorrow

Knowing she shall never see tomorrow

No light she will see 

No color she will see

None but the blackness of night and the crimson of her dress

Aside

Storage Room

Storage room

Box

A tangle of chains and locks 
No light gets in

No darkness seeps out

Bulletproof, titanium 

No key to be found, no willing locksmith can open 

Storage room

Box

The only thing I posses inside an endless factory of thoughts

Hide the pain, hide the bitterness, hide the hate, hide the dissatisfaction, hide the madness 

These prisoners belong in the storage room

They belong in a box 

A box so dark, a box so tight

The only light that gets in will never feel right.

My shield, a badge of protection 

My wall of discretion 

Never look in, only look out

For the storage room will stay, it won’t open today

Don’t let them see the horror that hides inside

No one can understand the storage room, no one can crack it open

They crumble under its weight

So pack the storage room until it’s full, stack the demons in their tomb

Keep it together, keep it tight, make sure to lock them up night 

In the storage room box.

What is forever?

How can you trust your feelings when people change and when love changes, there is no ‘forever’ all there is, is what’s between now and the end. So do we try to love or not at all. These illusions of love are sick. One day your happy and in love with someone and the next day the feelings just vanish and you’re left alone. What are we to do? Is there really a right person? A right time? Or are there many loves in this lifetime, just never the same love twice?