“They Do”


I’m going to keep on the happy stuff this week because what is better than when you are sad and trying to get out of a funk than writing happy things? 🙂 This week has been pretty emotional and hard. Maybe I will make it evident later why it has been, but that isn’t important right now. So I will leave you with kind of cute poem that I wrote when I was younger before I met my husband. I’m not positive if I was dating anyone at the time, but I guess I made my own little brief happy ending with whoever was in my thoughts at the time.

They went through heartache

in pain and in grief.

They separated for a while,

but then realized what they need.

He needed her.

She made him smile each day.

She needed him.

With him, nightmares go away.

They finally came back

to each other “they do”,

and now they’re happily married

ending their doom.

(Three Poems) Crazy What We Can Pull Through

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I’m going to do three poems today from my past. Not the worst ones. There are some that I am a little hesitant to share, but maybe I will get to them one day. I have just so many journals full of them. I want to get them all out there, but I’m not a fan of letting anyone into my past and seeing my dark side. I’m talking my really really dark. But I feel like people should know that no matter how dark you may be or have gone, that you can pick yourself back up. Some of my horribly terrifying poems I have written shock me at how messed up I really was. I look at myself now and I feel so much stronger, better, and happier. I remember not too long ago when I thought that I would never be able to make it out of a certain something. I could see no light at the end of the tunnel, but I did it. I conquered something that I never thought would be possible, and doing that has made me realize that there are so many things that I can do and accomplish that I don’t even know about yet. It has made my marriage stronger, it has made me desire more to better myself, and it has helped me help people close to me and I’m hoping one day people who don’t even know me.

When Are You Theirs?

They keep coming and coming,

visions black with fear.

Eyes start blurring

from straining them to clear.

They won’t go away,

small glimpses of hell.

Killing, sex, and burning,

people dying out.

They keep on taunting,

never going away.

With nothing left worth seeing,

our imagination it plays.

Words they keep on coming,

silent as the grave.

All filled with lust and torture,

raping another’s game.

They just keep on stalking. 

People, they want to sleep.

Kids while they’re playing.

Pets while they eat.

They just sit and watch at sin,

of sex, guilt, and play,

of lust, envy, and anger,

anything that’s lame.

While we’re all lame inside,

can’t move. Can’t think.

Can’t swim. Can’t flush out evil.

Can’t work. Can’t sleep.

We have things go in our heads.

Are they real? Are they true?

Is it when they control,

or end up marking you?

Marking you with scratches

from their icy fingers that burn.

With eyes that slice like knives.

With memories that yearn.

Is it when they make you suffer?

Is it when they make you play?

While making you have sex?

No control left to escape.

Leaving, It’s up to them.

To make fear rule.

As you keep on having visions,

while the demons take with you.

(When Are You Theirs was when I was having hallucinations when I was in late middle school and early high school, which I’m pretty sure were caused by a mix of medications I was taking. I won’t go into what the hallucinations were of course. Also, just so it is known, I am only now just naming some of these poems so it is easier to separate them and find out their meaning. In my journals they have no names. The poem below this I won’t name.)

Life is done.

Death is near.

We all hear panic.

We all see fear.

We close our eyes

to block out the pain.

The darkness has taken,

the light from the day.

She runs to hide.

Hide herself from strife.

He comes for her.

Comes to take her life.

He grabs her now,

rape in his mind.

His face all darkness.

His eyes not kind.

His hands all cold.

He holds the knife

and thrusts it home.

Her end in sight.

It strikes her heart.

She holds her breath.

Blood in her mouth.

Blood on her breast.

Her face turns pale.

She sheds one last tear.

Blood in her eyes, she swallows

the last of her fears.

(A poem with a mixture of elements I was obsessed with and that were going on at the time.)


I’m lost, lonely,

frustrated, scared.

Worried, confused,

trapped, and bare.

My thoughts are running.

I’m drifting away.

I’ll never know if

I’ll see another day.

Everyone reads me

when I want to stay closed.

Waiting to seize me.

Me not wanting to go.

Waiting forever

for someone who’s real.

Not leaving me helpless

and making me feel.

Being numb and cold

not feeling a thing

makes you …. want to

only just dream.

Because while everything’s moving

as fast as it goes.

It calls into question

how far we will go.

Will we go on forever?

Are you and me real?

Or am I just sitting alone

waiting to feel?

Feel someone with me.

Someone against my skin.

Someone to love me

and let me in.

Someone to work with.

Someone to hold.

Please tell me you are out there.

And where I should go.

I’m done with being confused,

lonely, and scared.

I’m in desperate need to find you.

I need you here.

(Another one from my past, but sometimes I find some mistakes and/or I add on and finish up some poems from my past. Which is what I did for this one. It is great to see more clearly now. Not as clear as I would want to, of course, but clearer than when I was younger. Just have to keep sifting through our minds and figuring things out until life is precious to us again. Diving into these poems in my past feels like greeting and getting to re-know the past me. Sometimes it is dark and scary, but it helps to know that I did and have pulled through, and if I ever get encountered by darkness as black and vivid as what I have encountered in the past, that it is more than possible to pull through it again. :))



Please Make You Mine


Let’s lighten things up with a happier poem this time. This is one I actually did today.

Brilliant blue eyes,

so striking, they soar.

Lips so luscious,

one smirk, and I’m yours.

Chin standing dominant,

masculinity in every line.

Voice smooth and perfect,

please make you mine.



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I want you.

My body, my mind, my soul

it screams for you,

it lusts for you.

I search…

Search every city,

every town,

every dream,

but I can’t find you.

You’re lost.

I’m lost.

I’m just left to wonder

if you ever did exist.

A poem I did in early high school when I was in the middle of searching for the one I wanted and needed to be with. The one person that my body and soul yearned for, but didn’t know where to find him. I’m sure many can relate to this.

Clenched Death

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Everything covers her.

She wants them both.

The growing need

it pushes her,

to do something

that most won’t.

She holds her death in one hand.

Seven pills in a fist.

It is funny that that is God’s number,

for he will be seeing her

after this.


Another poem from my past.


Falling In


Here is another poem I did when I was younger and things were getting harder for myself to handle. This was near the beginning of when I started falling into one of my addictions that ended up later becoming the worst fight for my life. It is just crazy to me how many people had no idea what was happening and what I was doing until later when I had fallen in too far.

She can’t handle herself.

She’s starting to change.

Everything’s happening

and pushing her in vain.

She can’t stop herself.

She’s already tried.

And after she’s done it,

She just sits there and cries.

It has a hold of her now.

It’s controlling her life.

The addiction is what matters.

There’s nothing more in sight.

“No, you got to keep going.

You gotta fight through the pain,”

says a voice in her head

that’s starting to drain.

She hides it from her friends,

and her family has no clue.

They all see her changing,

but think it’s nothing new.

With no one to help her,

she’s losing the fight

and trying so hard

just to make it one more night.

Black Cocoon

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This is something I wrote when I was in middle school. It definitely shows how lost and dark I was, which happily I’m not so much anymore. It does get better! You can get better! The pain that this character refused to deal with, well I finally dealt and faced a lot of it and it released me from hell.


She sits in her room,

alone on her bed.

She can’t handle the pain.

She wants it to spread.

Spread like butter,

butter on toast.

Spread on joy,

on moments she won’t.

Won’t forget.

Will love forever.

She looks at the sunset.

She takes in the weather.

The weather of rain.

The days all messed up.

The pond is green.

The ducks throwing up.

She still looks for joy,

and turns to the sun.

The sun though disappears,

and then it is gone.

The moon is what’s left.

In it is peace.

The light, it shines down.

Makes everything at ease.

Darkness surrounds her.

She still feels the pain.

Can’t rely on the weather.

Can’t rely on the day.

They won’t make her happy.

She has to do it herself.

She has to remain stable,

and figure this out.

Why she feels so empty,

so lonely inside.

Why no one’s with her.

Why alone she cries.

She looks at the clock.

Past midnight. Can’t sleep.

Tears off the covers,

and gets to her feet.

As soon as she steps down.

She falls through a black hole.

She’s now in a sewer,

which is all damp and cold.

She shivers in chills,

her hair soaken wet.

Her teeth they chatter,

won’t break from a sweat.

Scared to move,

she’s pushed by a force.

A force in the darkness.

Forward, she’s marched.

As she glides through the tunnel.

Pants soaked, swishing through.

She reaches the ending,

nothing but gloom.

She touches the concrete.

The bricks on the wall.

She puts her head against it.

She wants to fix all.

Then a noise, it startles.

She turns with a start.

Black webs grab her feet,

from the water it warps.

It’s sticky like cobwebs.

It cuts her, all pain.

It brings her to her knees.

She screams as she lays.

Lays back in the water.

Face searching for air.

The web grabs her shoulders.

She tenses and bears.

Bears all the darkness.

As it covers her face.

Covers her eyes.

No point of escape.

It then pulls her under.

No longer can breath.

Black webs all covering her.

A cocoon, ready to feed.

To eat all the pain.

Pain withheld inside.

Which she was keeping all in,

and let her dreams decide.

Dreams decide her fate,

how to get it all out

No more relying on others.

No more relying on self.

Her fate came to darkness.

Her fate equaled death.

If she just dealt with her problems,

it wouldn’t have meant…

She wouldn’t have met the tunnel.

She wouldn’t have met hell.

Hell came to take her.

She’s wrapped in its swells.

Slowly devoured,

played with till dead.

She’s feeding it’s hunger,

the pain that she kept.