It has the power to heal you,
fix relationships,
mend broken-hearts,
& fill emptiness.
It is something so small,.
yet,
larger than life,
with so much signifigance.
… Though it seems so simple,
it is complex,
& uplifting.
It can brighten the darkest storm.
It soothes the deepest, darkest part of the soul.
It is music…
…& it is my life.
I love you more than, life itself.
I began with you but, ended up with nothing.
Sometimes I wonder if you ever meant anything you ever said or promised.
It gets to me which is why I have decided to let go and move on.
When I needed you the most you weren’t here.
I will always love you but, this is good-bye.
Love is nothing to me anymore you took my heart and shattered it pieces and i can’t be held on the side anymore.
So, where I began is where I’m going to finish with “nothing”.
Some are the reason for pain, suffering, and heartbreak but, some bring joy, happiness, and hope to life.
They love, fight, and argue but, in the end everything happens for a reason.
So, make-up or break-up we all suffer in the end some how.
If it’s meant to be they’ll come back but, if not one’s loss is anothers gain.
I’ve been through thick and thin but, I always end up hurt.
I’ve taken what I want from you.
Left you a hollow shell.
Left you dead.
Is that what you wanted?
I tried to warn you, but you forced my hand.
Forced my hand around this knife.
Forced this knife upon your throat.
I am a thief.
A thief and a fucking poltergeist.
I held your face below the earth until your lungs filled with dirt.
Dense with the soil, your breath became so shallow.
Just like me.
Just like the world.
I don’t remember a time when I’ve ever cared
And now is no exception.
Next time when I say ‘no.’
You’ll know exactly what it means.
You once told me, “Death is but a dreamless sleep.”
But your words are laced with a certain longing…
A desire hidden deep under your skin.
Within the walls of your restless heart lies a secret…
Forbidden knowledge for which you’ve sacrificed your innocence.
I am not certain of it’s origin
Not completely fond of it’s nature,
But my heart flutters every time you speak those words…
“Death is but a dreamless sleep.”
If I had a life I could live
Then, I’d have something to call mine.
With you in my heart I will end where I start.
If I could smile at you and let you know what I was thinking about, It would be that you are my sun.
You are the reason I wake up every morning.
That I know I don’t have to search for anything to hold anymore, now that I have you.
It’s hard to let go of the people I know and love but, I’m willing to do it all for you.
You have always been the best friend that I’ve ever had and, you’ll never be alone.
Everything happens for a reason, people change so you can learn how to let go.
Things go wrong so that you can appreciate them when they’re right.
You believe lies, so you eventually learn to trust no one but yourself.
An sometimes good things fall apart so better things can fall together.
I am a tree. Cherry Blossom to be exact. I am planted in the yard of the Henry family. I’ve seen many days, and even more seasons. Years ago, when I had just started to grow, the Henry family moved in. It was just a women and a man. A cute couple.
As the family grew, I did too. Soon just after five years, I had grown up like magic. Every year I watched as the children came out to play, and I felt them as they pulled on my branches.
Over those years, I watched each kid take their first steps outside, it was so amazing. I watched the man build swing sets and jungle gyms, for the kids. I even felt when he tied a tire swing to my thickest branch. I’ve seen it all.
Each season came new things to bare. With spring came harsh wind and storms, summer brought heat and humidity, fall brought me going dead, losing my beautiful leaves, and winter brought me death and sadness. But each spring I would fully bloom. I’d put on my flowery pink dress. I love when the winds blew it around, I was dancing. Dancing in the wind. In the summer, i would lose my pink dress, but put on a green one. I loved feeling the warm summer breeze, loved seeing the kids out playing, and a night having them sleep under me. In the fall, well fall and winter, I lost everything, my dress came off, and I got cold. Winter’s were awful, every year when the children came out all bundled, I wish myself, that I was all bundled up too. But winters here don’t last long. And soon, it was back to spring.
With each season that passed, I knew I was getting closer to my limit, my death, my falling over and rotting. Fifty years after the Henry family moved in, I’d seen my last spring, A few months into winter, I felt my branches falling off, my last branch fell at the peak of spring. I am no longer the huge pink dressed tree. I am dead and fallen over.
But I do know one thing that doesn’t hurt me, even though I died, somewhere in the world,
another tree is being planted, or sprouting up. And that makes me happy.
My dog’s picture sits below my television set, while I’m watching TV. Memories flood my mind each time I glance upon it. I used to have such fun times with her each time I came home from school. My parents bought her when I was young in the second grade. We played with each other each time I came home from school, and whenever I went outside. I believe she died due to a swollen part on her leg busting open and becoming infected, as she used to have an enormous bump hanging from it; however, it was nowhere to be found once she had died. I wish these memories of my dog were real once more.
Do not fight that which will inevitably control you.
Acknowledge its power, its worth.
Allow it to roam freely inside of you
Twisting, jerking…writhing into your very core.
Grant it full control.
Allow it to speak to you…motivate you.
Feel its warmth radiating out of you.
The beauty of its intentions
Flooding your hollow skull with ideas…urges.
Make no attempts to control these urges.
They are pure. Innate.
Allow your mind to become saturated with the fervent heat of perversion.
When you stab…
Stab angrily. Stab with overwhelming fury. Plunge deeply.
When you torture…
Do so without exhibiting an ounce of mercy, a shred of sympathy.
When you kill…
Kill because you can.
Kill because your victims are exactly that…yours.
Yours to slice and stab.
To rip and tear.
To rape and mutilate.
They are your entertainment, your possession.
Kill without guilt, remorse, or contrition. (Other words for weakness.)
Exterminate the young and the old
The rich and the poor
The strong and the weak
The sinners and the saints
The scholars and the stupid
The beautiful and the hideous
The perfect and the worthless.
Eliminate them
Because human beings are the lowest and most miserable form of life.
Kill them because murder is the ultimate display of power…
The highest form of ecstasy.
I sit here
Slowly, ignorantly thinking of pathetic things to jot down on this keyboard.
Things pass through
But nothing seems significant enough to explain.
Nothing seems satisfying to me.
Trying to get rid of the obvious fact that I hate many things.
Things continue to float through
Like a leaf, that has just fell in the fall.
When does it land?
Where does it land?
Why does it land?
Does it even land?
Its unexplainable.
Is this even a poem?
or am I just simply typing things on a keyboard.
Still, unexplainable.
Are you sure you do things the “right” way?
Or is it “your” way.
Still, unexplainable.
What is with me when I get bad news? During the summer vacation of 2010, my friend Ansliegh and I were talking. Mary was there, also. The whole conversation took a turn for the worse. She started talking about her dad and how he died a few months before. This is what started the chain of events. When she started to talk about her dad, I was thinking of something funny that happened the previous week. I wanted to laugh out loud. I let a few chuckles out, but they didn’t notice. I almost lost ot when she said that she felt him in his spiritual form. Luckily, I found enough strength in me to stop for a minute. I tried to explain to them that I was just happy that he was with her even after he had passed on. All was going well until she said the she felt a cold breeze lay with her on the couch. That is when everything fell apart. I completely lost control. I didn’t realize how hard I was laughing until I saw them staring at me. I started to feel bad, but I couldn’t stop. Maybe this is how I deal with sad things such as death. This only happens in person. Never on the phone.
His hands are cracked and dry like desert sand. They are compassionate and soft, on the inside.
As you look in those hands, you’ll see a hard-working man, and man who puts 110% in everything. Hands that are rough but gentle with children. Someone who is full of love, full of a nurturing touch. Those hands are wild like a storm,
but calm as a lake when everything falls back into place.
If only I could Protect you
From the cruel world,
The sorrow
If only I could hold you,
And you feel invincible
I’d never let you go from my life
I’d listen to your every thought
When everything is resentful,
I wouldn’t be
You’d never be uncomfortable,
Think you’re in harms way
I’d keep you in my thoughts, in my prayers
If only I could protect you
Keep you from the cruel world
If only I could make no mistakes
I’d never bother you
Only love you
Always here,
Protecting you from the pain
You are everything to me,
And I am yours,
Forever
It was supposed to be a little cabin made of Popsicle sticks. I had all sorts of colors, pretty much the entire rainbow. I figured making a small cabin for fun was going to be easy. Not the case, not the case at all. I didn’t know anything about building it or how or where I was going to start. I went by what I saw and what I remembered from watching a video about building small cabins. I went by the instructions that said to start out with the basic floor structure. That part wasn’t too bad and was pretty easy. The walls were next, not too hard. I have to say that the most annoying part was waiting on the glue to dry. I had to wait at least ten minutes before I could even put the walls on. The roof, on the other hand, was very tricky. I couldn’t stick the sides of the pretty sticks together for nothing in this world. The glue just would not dry. I didn’t even know if it was possible for me to finish this cabin. I started to give the poor, old cabin a flat roof. Instead of it being a cabin, it was going to be a shack. I was determined to get this cabin finished and I was not going to give up no matter what. The roof, even though it was a little crooked and odd shaped, got the job done perfectly. When I looked at my masterpiece, I began to feel ashamed and embarrassed. I didn’t show my cabin to anyone for a while. Then, I realized that what I had built….was beautiful. I worked so hard on it. So, not only did I have a cabin made entirely out of rainbow Popsicle sticks, I had a cabin that also smelled like fruit.
PenTherapy 