Prose: Direction

I have only one direction in life: forward.

 

Guarded

He has an old soul

Heart of gold

However, may you ask about his past

Those are secrets he will never unfold

Mine

These lines I write

Shall never fully define

What it was like

When you were mine

Prose: Masks

The facade is a mask we bestow as the curtain rises. The play is our life and we choose the role that is most appealing to the crowd. No matter the applause, we all take the mask off at the end of the show. Bravo you have played yourself a fool. Do not live your life as a masquerade.

Prose: Spilled Ink

Spilled ink is often mixed with heartache and tears.

Resilience of the Mentally Ill

I have no idea what it is like to be normal

Nor do I wish to ever be so

I feel everything to an extreme

Highs and lows

 

Intense always

Even on the dark days

I was not made to be normal

I was born with this chemical imbalance on purpose

 

To make it known

That the strongest people have been through the most

Not physically but mentally

Those are the real heroes

 

They fight demons alone

They save themselves

They do not need your approval

They are the strongest people I know

 

I am one of them

Perhaps so are you

I have anxiety and bipolar 2

Now, what about you?

 

A Nomad’s Goodbye

It’s been months since our last encounter

I can still taste your lips

Soft and sweet

 

Tongues dancing to a slow rhythm beat

Fingers intertwined

Silky dark hair covering your face

 

As I lean in more and more

Bodies yearning to be made one

This can not be a sin to feel this euphoric

 

Now I remember why I have to think back

To when we were exceptionally high on one another

However, our bond became an intoxicating poison

 

Your absence still lingers

I remember the day I decided to leave

You did not reach out; You became a ghost

 

It is a melancholy feeling

I tend to break hearts I have been told

I even break my own

 

Perhaps that is what was so similar between us

Our mutual suffering

And our old souls being misunderstood

 

My pride forever gets the best of me

Father said since I was small

I had fire in me that would never die

 

Therefore, I shall run forever wild

I tend to do all the things you hate

For I am dangerous and can’t be tamed

 

I am a nomad

I can not be told where to go

I can not belong to someone

 

I shall always know what I felt was real

Something always takes me back to thoughts of you

A sad song, novels and drunken actions I can’t undo

 

Still I remember the memories

I reminisce and ponder

It’s been months since our last encounter

 

Dangerous Woman

Isn’t it peculiar how men rush to war unafraid

However, the slightest feeling of possible love for a woman

Leads them to their knees

The greatest fear of all

–Dangerous

–Unexpected

–Consuming

Is love for a woman who may one day leave

Prose: Leave It

Don’t try to reach out to me once you’ve figured out you were wrong about us. Distance may make your heart grow fonder. Time may heal the hurt. However, I am not blind to the chaos you caused me and the destruction you left behind.

 

Prose: Newton to Churchill

You have to be a bit mad to go far in life. Who else comes up with crazy ideas of changing the world? It’s obviously not the norm. Take pride in what has made you different. I refuse to allow anyone to use my disorder against me. Just take a look at all the heroes and leaders in history. Far more were mad than most people would like to ever believe.

Lines About You

Once the ink is on the paper

I can relive these bittersweet memories

These beautiful lines I write about you

Back Bar

Your eyes met mine

You looked away

It was like daggers to my heart

No wave, hello or text message

You laughed with friends

Bought another drink

All while my heart continued to sink

It was as if I didn’t exist

I couldn’t take it anymore

I attempted to drink the pain away

I forced myself into another’s arms

All because you ignored me at the back bar