Scribbled Thoughts

20:157

Unravel from the circle

my right to be called

family.

Return the empty

keychain with a

satisfied smile.

Stuck with a polite

reply as your

heart accepts

the rejection.

Remain outside,

remain apart

and suffer through

our whispers.

20:156

Streetlamp of desire,

stalking me in my home,

looming over my window,

shining into my soul.

The streets have been

lonely this last year,

no company to keep

them occupied.

Lusting for life,

illumination on gossip,

an insight

into despair.

Why do you

shine at night

on empty streets,

still praying, one

day, there will

be purpose

again.

What purpose

is left?

20:155

Six months a useless,

unneeded and forgotten.

A world in crisis

and you won’t cure it.

Stay away,

forget yourself,

and life might

heal those

it needs.

20:154

Decorate the tree alone

create a beauty

to admire and hope.

Turn to look beside

you and feel the

nothing of the world.

The time for family

is denied,

stay alive

but be empty,

a dead tree your

only friend.

20:153

A bare tree ready

to be decorated,

to come alive and

shine up your smile.

But I have nothing

to give, only emptiness

and tears to water

you. We stare at

each other, both

hoping the other

will take the first

step to begin to

fill the other, make

it easier to carry on.

20:152

Share their story

until it becomes your own.

Forget your own features

until mirrors bend

and change.

Be the hero of the

story, it’s what

everyone wants.

Trick your world

into importance

and will out

truth and lies.

20:151

There was a lady who

swallowed a fly,

unseen and unaware

in the darkness of a lamp.

Its death, its existence,

no one even noticed.

She chose to burn

and scatter,

forever merging

with the end.

20:150

Ash snowflakes

causing innocent laughter,

tongues poking out

and tasting the dead.

Living now coated

with their regret,

unknown resentment

seeping into

the earth.

20:149

Catch the words

from the air

and put them down.

Force them into paper,

squish them with

ink, seal them

Into place.

Forever stationary,

forever trapped

to serve the

reader.

20:148

I embarrassed you,

I know, with my

stubborn and stupid nature,

insisting I was right

when knowing I

was wrong.

Too late my

mouth won’t stop,

admit defeat,

and your eyes

turn away,

dismissing all

respect and

happiness.