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Author's Note - I started this about three months ago. At the time things were quite different, it's scary to see how much things can change in the course of three months, but it's just a part of life. I had actually forgotten about this poem, until coming across it in my onenote.. whoops. I didn't intend on finishing it but I ended up making some adaptions to it and now posting it, so enjoy.

The cool water licks my toes,

The water almost illuminated by the sunset,

I remember how we once sat here,

And then every memory of comes back.

I long for your touch, but I know better,

Wishing you were here again never ends well,

And as the tears flow down my face,

I wonder if I ever cross your mind.

I look around me, but see no one,

The bitter taste of loneliness strikes again,

My thoughts drift back to you.

Tears

The tears flow down my face onto my neck where you used to kiss me.
The blood drips down my arm to my hand you used to hold.
I sit alone, the memories my only friend.

You say I’ve changed,
But I’m still the same,
Just hiding the scars you left behind.

You said that if there was ever a way out of loving you,
You’d lock all the doors and throw away the key,
I should have been the one with the key.

You promised me forever,
You said you loved me,
The world was ours, why did you take it away?

I miss everything we had,
You took it away, without any second thoughts,
You turned my perfect world into a living nightmare.

I see you, long for your touch,
The touch that used to send chills down my spine,
Now the thought only brings back memories that cut to the core.

At night I lie awake,
My mind a never ending whirl of memories,
This broken heart is endless, I needed you.

What happened to us? We shared something so real, so rare,
But now I’m alone, with only you to blame,
Yet I can only blame myself.

What if I would of said, “I love you,” more,
What if I had kissed you every time I wanted to,
Would it had changed your mind?

There is no changing the past, but the future is still ours,
And there’s nothing I want more than you,
But you don’t want me.

How does it feel to be the one who causes my pain,
The one who left me broken?
This is me putting the pieces back together.


Authors Note - It's been awhile since I've written anything on this blog! This new entry is a poem that is kind of depressing, but it's just a way to get my feelings out, and writing is a great way to let them out.

Sunrise with My Sister

Pastels of the early morning fill the sky. The morning sun rises above our heads, lighting our faces. We walk in unison down the pebbled path towards the lake -- the water so still it could be mistaken for glass. Our feet kicking the pebbles out of the way leaving imprints where our young feet have been. As we take the step from the pebbled path to the wooden pier, the sound of our feet becomes unmuted as the aged wood creaks. At the end of the pier we sit, our legs dangling off the edge, the water licking our delicate feet. Youth: such an innocent part of life. I tell myself how lucky I am to have a sister like you.


Author's Note - I did a stream of consciousness about the sunrise and I came up with this. It's about a walk my sister and I took in the early morning down to the lake while we were up north last summer. I would like to refine it as a poem maybe, but I'm not sure.

Not Knowing

I look at you,
You look back at me,
We walk closer to each other.

I take another step forward,
You do the same,
Our fingers entwine.

I ask what's on your mind,
You say nothing,
We both know you're lying.

I ask you again,
You laugh and say nothing again,
Our minds now stuck on your thoughts.

I wonder about what's really on your mind,
Is it bad, is it good?
But it's too late now,
The moment is lost as we walk away.

Author's Note - The novel, The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-time, the main character has Autism which makes understanding people and their emotions even harder than someone without that disorder. When talking to someone their emotions and facial expressions are key in telling what kind of mood they're in or giving little hints of what their thinking about, but for someone who has Autism is really hard to read someone. So it brings a question to my attention: do we ever know what people are thinking? I wrote this poem around that concept of reading emotions, yet you never know what someone is thinking... even when you think you do.

Infinity

I chose to write about the Ininity Chamber, so here's my attempt at another poem!

Infinity never so touchable, so real-
the glass and mirrors fooling-
creating a perfect box of infinity.

Endless, unlimited, unbounded-
Shinning, every light like a star made of diamonds-
Going on forever in every direction.

Inside you're walking on air-
As if you were in space-
Hundreds and thousands of lights boundless-
Confusing to the eye.

Looking all around it never ends-
Infinity is unbounded, unlimited, endless.

Last Day of Summer Poem

Sun setting low-
Sky full of pastels of the night-
Laughing , we run-
Chasing the ducks;
Screaming like little girls again.

Sitting on the
                  cold
                       grainy
                              sand,
Reminiscing
                hot
                    summer
                               days.

Walking - the wet sand between our toes-
We leave our footprints behind,
to be washed away by the
last
day
of
summer.

Prince Charming - Stream of Consciousness

Walking through the warm, open forest we can only hear the echoes of our voices, the trees moving to the wind, chipmunks and birds running to and fro, yet we don't seem to notice as we wander aimlessly, talking and getting lost in the maze of trees. We come to realize how lost we've become in each other's presence. You keep talking, while I think about fairytales -- the princess rescued by the knight in shining armor, that true prince charming. I wonder if you could be my prince charming who rescued me from my castle.

The Last Day of Summer

The sun setting low -- filling the sky with shades of pinks and oranges -- shines dimly on the lake's surface. We run, laughing as we're chasing the ducks, screaming like little girls again. Sitting in the cold sand we reminisce about the hot summer days until tomorrow's reality is forgotten. Walking in the wet sand we leave our footprints behind only to be washed away by the last day of summer.