I always feel a slight sense of discontentment or disappointment when I find myself saying or thinking, “next time.” Maybe it’s because I’m frustrated with myself at how it always seems like I’m trying to squeeze too much into a single day [or sentence]; setting expectations for myself that are way too high to climb and …
So what if my writing sometimes refuses to go any deeper than surface level and touch all the raw, sore spots, the gaping wounds, imprinted onto me by the egopinions of everyone but myself? Maybe I’m just tired of pain, and the remains of my own ego seek to shield me from the traumas of …
How’s life? I don’t really know, I – Can I get back to you on that? I’ve been writing about it in my mind of what it is, what it could be, what it has been and there are vast imbalances between its scales. But this story isn’t done yet so I just keep writing …
I think I’m ready now to face down my shadows; The ones that burrow deep and that I attempt to run and hide from even in my sleep. I’m not afraid of what they’ll reveal, not even fearful of what they’ll make me feel. I don’t  worry about how they’ve marred my soul – I determined long …
I think I like most of the things about myself that I say out loud I don’t – I self-deprecate to deflect the attention that part of me actually secretly desires but that I also hope happens organically; I haven’t figured out how to do that so instead I just push it all away. And …
Watching my heart shatter over and over watching the remaining shreds wave forgotten in the wind; Dying millions of deaths every passing moment wondering what normal life ever felt like… I’ve never experienced it, torn apart, I’ve become dust, ashes; scattered across realms and planes untraveled. No longer solid, never again whole… Like an edifice …
Can’t keep up, can’t back down – Speak optimistically internally I frown because maybe I’m doing too much, though it feels I do little; As such, I quickly lose focus and get to feeling quite bogus. All of this feels…wrong I feel like I just don’t belong: Not even wanting to fit in I just …
My poetry is a little dark; Because I like to illuminate my shadows instead of carrying them with me.
I lit my lighterto fight fire with fire…Only the cherriesremain extinguishedand I struggleto distinguishbetween fear, fantasy, and fun – and the reality I seek solace from. Can’t hide forever,wish though that I neverencountered the anti-good,destroyer of innocenceruination of childhood. If onlymy thoughts would stoptheir uncouth amalgam of flop,if I could just get pastmy presentwhere it …
Highly intense, and so much more awkward; lapses in social skills and judgments results of consistent self-isolation from being ostracized in public space… Because, never give them the opportunity to do it for you… Time spent in my own mental space stripping me of the ability to properly converse with other persons of being… writing …
Poetry, story and real life. Once soldier, busnessman, grandfather and Poet.
Study - Learn - Engage
A collective of thoughts, poetry, writing works, blurbs, and other randomosity
BUZZWEED QUIZZES
We blog for more insight
Art Studio Dumfriesshire
Kayfucius 
You must be logged in to post a comment.