Burn

Bitter recollections

Unwilling to

Remember all the mistakes

Nevertheless, think of them again.

BURN them,

As you would burn

Useless trash to get rid of them.

BURN them,

As you would burn

Wood to give you warmth.

BURN your fears,

Your sadness, your horrors,

Your insecurities,

Your worst memories.

BURN your flaws,

The criticisms,

The self-loathing

And hatred you’ve always had.

And blow your problems away,

Just as you blow away these ashes,

And always believe in

A better life, without scars.

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Reflections

Shaky, unclear, hazy

Memories of what I’ve been.

A little stupid, a little crazy,

The things that I’ve heard and seen.

A small ripple will set them off

Like a bottled up volcano.

But the pain can’t be even reduced by half,

Of the things that I’ve been before.

So as I look at my reflection,

Smiling sadly with her sorrowful eyes,

That girl inside me decides tor run,

Looking for some respite.

Unsure, but confident

That truthfully telling lies,

Will somehow make me not repent

Fleeing from this world of cowardice.

For Poetry 101 Rehab: Reflections

Fresh Page

Every page I turn

Is ripped, torn, or burnt.

Every page I turn

Has nothing new to learn.

The sharp edges

Cut my fingers.

Just a drop of blood

On the destroyed page.

I’m sick of this,

My book of memories.

I’m sick of this,

Want to turn over a new leaf.

And all I have to do

Is gather some courage

To turn over a

Fresh page.

For Poetry 101 Rehab: Decisions

Final Fall

Dropping down a hundred feet

Darkness was all the eyes could meet

Feeling just stuck, hollow and alone

And the fault is my own.

Chilling air, cold decay.

All thoughts just washed away.

Feeling the gravity of all my deeds,

No one to catch me, someone save me please!

I know I’ll be completely shattered on impact

So I brace myself for the bitter fact.

No family, no friends, no one at all,

I’m alone and desperate in my final fall.

Sometimes, falling is the only forward movement in life. In response to Poetry 101 Rehab.

Even if you fall on your face, you’re still moving forward.

-Victor Kiam

Couldn’t

Couldn’t I have been born fairer?

Cuter, smarter, sweeter, and wittier?

Couldn’t the little imperfections in my character,

On my face, simply disappear?

Couldn’t I have some swag,

Some style, some coolness?

Have people looking up at me,

Without my flaws and insecurities?

In response to Poetry 101 Rehab

Getaway

Rushing into the ghostly arms

Of dark-robed Sleep.

Seated on a shadowy throne,

Engulfing me with dreams.

No other way to relieve myself,

No other way of escape.

No other way to run from the horror

Sleep is my only getaway.

A pretty sleepy response to Poetry 101 Rehab. Goodnight, sleep tight!