Reblog – Scraps by River Dixon

This piece gripped me from the beginning but man, those last six lines did me in! I hope it touches you as well.

The Stories In Between

Try as I may

There is no denying

The intricacies

In your way

That leave behind

An ache for more

The fingers trace

Delicate footfalls

As hands and knees

Give way to

Desperate scrounging

For one last morsel

Of the way

You looked at me

That night

It lives on

A haunting reminder

That my hands

Are made to

Reach out and

Embrace, not

To dig in shadows

For remnants

Of things left

Behind, feeding

Me for a day

While I starve

For a lifetime

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Reblog – Alone by Taylor Grace

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The Broken Inside of Me

Which version do you prefer me to be?

The me that doesn’t always suit you quite so perfectly

The me that fits your perception of who I should be

The me who never has moments of weakness that brings me to my knees

It is difficult trying to be who everyone wants me to be

One day I’m going to only have myself to please

I reach out for your hand, repeatedly waiting just for someone to understand

Love me

Hate me

There is no in between

I understand though because I feel the same things

I’ve spent my whole life just trying to breathe

Still to this day I run, I hide, driving around aimlessly in an attempt to ignore the brokenness that is inside

The only thing I really need is someone to listen and comfort the pieces that are me

I know they say love comes with a cost

Maybe I’m just tired of feeling so damn lost

Not feeling accepted has taken a toll on me

Devastation added on top of the underlying pain

Nothing I can do but sit holding no one accountable

What else would you expect me to do

I turn it all inside

Carrying all the burdens

Hiding all the shame

Running from the memories

At the end of the day I have no one to blame

It’s ok though because I know that pain

I feel invisible

Nothing to lose

Oh wait, that’s right

That’s when I get told I don’t have a clue

I wonder if I’ve ever really showed anyone who I really am

My broken pieces run far too deep

Inside my demons constantly keeping me from sleep

Continually re-victimized by the very same voices that keep feeding me lies

Just when I feel I can’t hold on one more day, it occurs to me that no one is coming to save me and it doesn’t even matter if I were to walk away

All the labels and judgment

Fill my ears

But again no one knows the shell of a woman standing in front of them

Too sensitive

Too bossy

Too picky

Too upset

Too cautious

Too angry

Too hurt

Too organized

Too right

Too wrong

Too isolated

Too weak

Too strong

Too emotional

Too tired

Too sexy

Too much

Too difficult

Too quiet

Too old

Too kind

Too loud

Too thoughtful

Too busy

Too hyper

Too complicated

Too Broken

Surrounded by all the voices

Seeming so intrigued

Fascinated by my words and wisdom

They like me

They love me

Oops once again I’ve been misled

They were only passing the time

And never again thought of me

Have you ever truly felt this alone?

 

A powerful piece about the internal struggles individuals grapple with.
Well done, Taylor!

A Suitcase by Randal A. Burd, Jr. via Vita Brevis

Capture-11
Empty House – L.S. Lowry

A suitcase lies among the many things
Abandoned when the owner left for good.
Exposed to elements, old mildew clings
To fabric torn and peeling from the wood.
The dusty handle still emits a shine
In places that endured the frequent grasp
Of hands too hurried by the railroad line
To put on gloves or lock the metal clasp.
What irony! A suitcase left behind
Speaks more about the trip it never made,
Found useless for the task it was designed
When owner passed from substance into shade.
The things that matter now won’t matter then.
The cycle ends only to start again.


About the Poet

Randal A. Burd, Jr. is an educator who works with the disadvantaged in rural Missouri. He holds a master’s degree in English Curriculum & Instruction from the University of Missouri. Randal is currently the Editor-in-Chief of Sparks of Calliope magazine. His latest collection of poems, Memoirs of a Witness Tree, is forthcoming from Kelsay Books in Summer 2020.

It was wonderful to read each line and feel the elements present themselves in my mind. Randal did a great job of making me feel the loneliness and emptiness of the scene. All I could think of was “poor suitcase” as if it were feeling pain. Bravo!

Published on Vita Brevis 1/6/2020 

Reblog – Loneliness and me

I hope you enjoy this piece as much as I did. It was achingly human.

living-in-solitude

Loneliness and me.

  

 

I found myself dwelling in the past
looking for the remains of the old me
wondering, how I used to feel.

What I found was

The love in my blood had drained
The trust I had in people had died
And the loneliness had embraced me
Since the night I stayed awake and cried.

Should I fear it, I questioned
What makes me a human, I don’t feel it anymore
Its been a while since I have felt a touch

I haven’t been touched in a while
touched by kindness
touched by love
touched by affection
I’m locked inside a prison of isolation

No one has come to see me yet
No one tried to free me yet
No one seems to be bothered by my absence
No one cares if I’m doing okay or not.

So I’ve decided to adopt it
Embrace the loneliness to used it for good.

I shut myself in
far away from the world
from the world where nobody cared anything I said

I start to live on my own
inside a big empty hall,
I start to explore,
explore the walls
see if they can protect me
or can they be broken by the storm

The storm lurking outside
waiting for me to go out
so it can devour me from inside

I live by myself
drawing, writing, praying.
drawing poetry, writing stories and saying my prayers
so I can learn to appreciate my solitude
and turn my flaws into art.

Understood

sdf

Do you hear me?
Do you get me?

Feel the urgency,
the intensity?

Do I resonate in your mind?
Does understanding flood your thoughts?

I hope, I wish.
Or will you always back away?

Hide your feelings and your thoughts,
dismissing me.

Letting go, more and more.
Inch by inch, problem by problem.

Can’t you hear that I need you?
I want you.

Lost now in anger, resentment, and fear.
Yours and Mine.

Where’s the connection between us now?
Was there ever one, really?

Can you feel me?
No, I don’t think you can.