Three of Four

The hardest part

Isn't trying to stop

It's trying to get that little voice out of your head

The one that tells you

"Go."

But with his help

I stopped picking up the phone when that little voice would call

Hell

Couldn't even begin to define what I had been through

And somehow

He never left my side

Our lives wove together like a rainbow tapestry

He saved me from myself

Something I would never be able to repay him for

And the scars

Highlighted in the sunlight

Remind me of him everyday

Two of Four

Pain

A cut,

A bruise,

A hole in my heart,

This gaping wound cannot be fixed.

Broken into pieces

Lying on the floor

Death encroaching

Then a hand,

Small but strong,

Reaches down and grabs my hand

Pulls me up off of the floor and into his arms

He tells me " you can't lay there on the floor, pick yourself up and do something about that hole in your heart. 

I can help you, if you want."

Help? Oh yes, help. 

"You, help me? Hmm..."

"I'll be there for you every hour of every day, Don't go and take your life away."

One of Four

This poem is apart of a four-part poem. Don't worry, I'll post it all within these next two weeks. I haven't named it yet, but I think it speaks for itself, even without a name And also,parts of this poem are fictional, and no, I don't slit my wrists.

Woke up this morning

Realized that we're all growing old

And that we're all going to die.

Don't know why life is worth the pain

When it could all be gone with a silver blade

It calls to me sometimes

Telling me "I can make it all fine."

Whispering in my ear

"Come."

A blade to my wrist

Blood flowing down my arms

Crimson red in the sink

A wave of relief

Content once again.

Can'tSaveYouLove

Don't you know that I can't save you?
I just can't save you from yourself
I'm sorry it has to be this way
But this is the only way this can work.

Why can't you realize I'm not as strong as you think I am?
Can't you see I'm just as broken as you?

Had it ever crossed your mind
That maybe
Just maybe
I haven't picked my pieces up?

Had you ever stopped to think
That maybe I too am incomplete?

It'sMorePoetryLove

This poem is dedicated to the people who love me, those who put up with me, those I loved, those who I don't know anymore, those who didn't want to be friends with me because I was "too weird", those people that know me, and those that I'll know someday. You mean too much to me.


Do you know how it feels to drown?
To lose yourself in the love and adoration of another human being?
To be consumed in the sorrow of someone else's pain?
It's like slowly letting go of a cliff,
Your strength fades away,
And you're spiraling down to your death with nothing you can do to save yourself.

Because that cliff you held onto,
Crumbled,
Cracked,
Went and left you to die because you "weren't good enough."
So you sink to the bottom of the ocean,
Dying,
With nothing and no one to save you.

No button to push,
No name to call,
No card to play,
Just the encroaching feel of cold,
Life slipping away.

And as you die you wonder,
How could I ever let anyone hurt me like this?
What did I do to deserve this?
Why did this have to happen to me?

No answer comes,
As you drown in your words,
In your thoughts,
In your feelings,
In that ocean,

Dead and shattered forevermore.

I'mRamblingLove

You know something, guys confuse me. They say one thing, and then they do another. For one thing, I’m a chick and I HATE this mixed signal business. It’s really confusing. I don’t know why people don’t have the courage to say what they need to say. I guess this is one of the reasons why I even started this blog, why I even take the time to write this stuff and put it up here. I’m just tired of all the signals people send… Ones they don’t take the time to even think about before they’re sent.

A really good friend of mine told me once, “People are going to hate you, and people are going to love you. But the person’s love that should matter the most to you should be your own love.”   I used to really hate myself; I thought the world hated me, that I was a freak, and that I was always going to be that way.  Then I moved back to Okinawa (where I live now), and I just figured myself out. It may have taken me two years, but I’m here.

I live inside of my own little world when I’m alone, a place where everything is the way I want it to be. Where I am the person I want to be… And it’s hard to make the transition back to reality because I’ve made it my idea of perfection. I wonder day after day, when it’s just me, who and what I really am and what I want to be. And I have so many dreams, each with their own positives and negatives, and I think sometimes that maybe I just need to get my head out of the clouds and come back to Earth. I live one life in reality and another in my head, and sometimes I want to be someone that I’m not, but I just want the things in my head to come true so I can stop living a double life.  - Teale