20:121 Five years of absence. A week too late to notice. Those meaningless little gestures you never even considered are suddenly gone, and your days spiral into chaos without their comfort. How to get them back? Too late. Appreciate, or feel their absence. You cannot claim them back.
Tag Archives: muse
Fairy tale poem idea
Based off The Princess and the Pea, with a twist. 20:120 A real princess indeed. She can never sleep, never rest with her pained back, sides, front. Even a pea bruises her, that’s what they say. Her downcast look was shyness, the ideal female disposition. It was fine. Except… Those bags under her eyes wouldContinue reading “Fairy tale poem idea”
Poem idea
20:119 A way of coping turns against you as a wave of pointlessness engulfs you. What is the point? Will it make a difference? Will anyone notice you, notice your desperate struggle to stop the inevitable.
Poem idea
20:118 Bridge to my sanity formed by desperate words scribbled on a piece of paper, any paper. Or perhaps a wall would be better, painted bold for all to see, unable to avoid. I am here. I feel these awful things. Don’t ignore me, don’t ignore yourself.
Poem idea
20:117 Evidence of a presence to make your life easier, but acknowledgement not needed, am I here at all? A ghostly essence, do your job, but leave no personal mark. Only if we find a fault will you become alive enough to feel, to direct at. You missed me for my tasks but not myContinue reading “Poem idea”
Poem idea
20:116 Paranoia rising as your beautiful words feel too wonderful to be true. Those flickers towards your phone as you blank the screen, do they contain guilt, or am I seeing things? Trying to make sense of how, why, you are still here, still in love with me. Why can’t I believe you? Why doContinue reading “Poem idea”
Poem idea
20:115 Pressure of your actions growing, growing with each passing hour. Time too short to fit all actions in. Adjust or perish, fade away into failure.
Poem idea
20:114 Create in isolation. Progress us, but never be seen, never be acknowledged. You are nothing.
Poem idea
20: 113 Dig nails into fragile skin, picking away layers of protection that you yourself created. Delicately grown, but easily destroyed, flowing blood is your prize. Seep your life away and sabotage any hope of rebuilding, healing, feeling.
Poem idea
20:112 A week of in-between suspended between the past and future. Transition of uncertainty, glancing back at pain, but something familiar. Will the future be the same? Be better? Or are you walking into two years of hardship, struggle that will amount to nothing? A week of unknowing, a week of doubt, and hope.
Scribbled Thoughts 