And at times
It feels as though I am doomed to make the same mistakes Forever. Like I make myself anew Each day From soft clay With the same broken mould. Hurray for poems! (Am I getting better at them? Probably, but I won't be able to tell for a while) -Atlas
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I saw it in a magazine.
It was a guitar It was blue It was beautiful. I wanted it more than anything And I was so excited when I got it I was so happy On that magical birthday or Christmas I was absolutely entranced For a little while. It sat in my room for years Gathering dust And when the time came to give it away The little girl who pointed to a picture in a magazine Said 'Didn't you want this? More than anything?' Yes. With everything I had. But not enough. I'm so good at writing cheerful poems -Atlas To put words to feelings
You must first understand them And here I am Lost Staring at an empty page. It's hard to write philosophical poems when your current view on life is 'I don't know, everything is shades of grey and can't really be simplified, try your best I guess' -Atlas Brainstorming! (I want to write & finish a short story by the end of the month--maybe 7,000 words or so? IDK)
"I mean like if someone stabbed you would you live or" "...Are you trying to kill me?" "...Noo" (pause) "So like what if you exploded would you die"
This was a pain to write out, and I'd honestly be impressed if you actually read it. Still, brainstorming is fun. Something tells me the actual writing will be less fun. But I will do it!! (I might do the editing and stuff on a google doc though.) -Atlas If someone asked me
To describe everything that was wrong With the world I would tell them A fly once landed On my chair In the living room. I didn't kill it But I made no move to save it, Either. And maybe they wouldn't understand. And maybe that would just prove my point. I should start writing stories again... -Atlas And If I held on to you
For just a second too long Know that I am trying to soak in every detail Of you because even if the future is dark and uncertain I can be certain Of this I wonder if I write poetry this way because I don't read a whole lot of visual, symbolic poetry/rhyming poetry/etc. I don't really think it's BAD that I write poetry like this, but I would like to be able to write other kinds of poetry. Maybe I should switch up my reading material... -Atlas But before the trust comes
There is silence An unsent text message Always, a quiet fear in the back of my mind If I didn't edit What I say Would they stay? Here's yesterday's poem (sorry about not posting. There's a double update today to make up for it, though!) -Atlas I fell in love
With the world Through your eyes Quietly Time paints the forgotten With layers of dust Like fingerprints. She tells her story With silence and stillness And if you don't pay attention You'll miss it. I was here But I'm just passing through Don't worry They waited for you Not sure if the last poem makes sense. I hope it does. (Am I getting better at writing these? I guess it's too early to tell.) -Atlas You sing songs
Of a world long gone And are upset when we don't recognize the tune Because we are missing all the Important Things But the truth is Your Important Things are yours We have to find our own. And I know one day nostalgia will take its hold I'll lay down my roots And grow old For now, though The future is exciting A mess? Yes. But it's our mess And it's where we're headed So maybe it's time to stop wasting the present And stop dreading it. This poem is all over the place. Gah. -Atlas But before I close the book
There is a moment Where I rearrange my heart To make room For the character's I've grown up with And the journey I went on with them. Because no matter how much it pains me to say goodbye I am full of love and gratitude And never regret. Have any of you guys ever felt like this after reading a really good book or story? (And of course it's another poem. What were you expecting) -Atlas |
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