Muse

He appears in many guises,
filling every corner of my dreams,
his darkness matching the demons
that linger beneath the seams
of the fears I seek to bury
yet no matter how hard I try
he comes without knocking, unbidden
like a swarm of locusts darkening the sky

And after he gets what he wants from me
stripping me of everything I once held dear
it’s a release that’s like no other,
where nothing else dares come near.
And so I leave the door wide open
of this little cage I still cling to,
waiting patiently for him to return,
gracing me with a madness that speaks so true.

via Muse — The Daily Post

Does Autocorrect Know The Word Poverty?

Today you posted a screenshot from a Philippine paper
of a letter written about the rampant theft
that happens when boxes sent home from the US and other places
are opened, sifted through, with valuables chosen and kept

But just when I thought you wanted to show the person’s angry emotions
about how these thieves were just the worst,
it wasn’t what you wanted your friends and followers to see, it turns out,
it was the grammar and improper spelling first

So the word, poverty, became puberty,
I doubt autocorrect would even know the word,
but the ones who work their asses off overseas do,
sending home almost everything they earn, often barely keeping a third

Yet here you are poking fun of the grammar,
picking apart the man’s spelling, too
laughing and missing the whole point of the letter,
you only show the rankness of your soul when you do.

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via Profound — The Daily Post

Apology

I have to tell you I’m sorry
for weighing you down with all my secrets
the ones that kept me stuck underneath the muck
the same ones that seek your allegiance,
keeping you down beneath the surface
where nothing moves, but only the dead,
dreams long snuffed out from ignorance,
replacing with regret where hopes once tread

Would I have known you’d be trapped here with me
underneath this dank prison of my dreams
I’d have warned you to keep on moving,
and cover your ears from my screams
But I was lonely and so I beckoned
and hearing my siren’s call you came,
longing for someone to see and hear you,
seeking my audience for your pain.

via Apology — The Daily Post

Narrow

I took this photo years ago at the Railroad Museum in Perris, California, during one of those Thomas and Friends Train days.  While my son is obsessed with anything trains – new and old – I love the history that comes with these vehicles, and how they’re linked to the growth of a city, county, state and country.

It’s amazing to see how far we’ve come!

via Narrow — The Daily Post

Unpredictable

what’s the world coming to?
when did everything go so wrong,
where people are killing each other,
where it’s no longer enough to be strong?

what can we tell our children
of the world that we’ll leave behind?
where is the utopia we all dreamed of
when did we forget to be kind?

where is it safe to wander anymore,
when promenades have become killing grounds?
when did everything go so wrong,
where love is nowhere to be found?

via Unpredictable — The Daily Post

Storm

There’s a storm in my heart
that rages whenever you’re gone,
wondering why you had to leave again,
what did I do wrong?

Did I ask too many questions
the last time you were here?
Did I not hear your instructions?
Weren’t you at all clear

that I’m supposed to be silent
when your storms howl deep inside,
when your demons come back for you,
and there’s no place to hide?

via Storm — The Daily Post

Glass

Is your glass half-full
or is it half-empty?
Is a glass ceiling stopping you
from moving on,
from claiming the things you see?

Do you wonder if you’ve got more to give
or are you washed up, as they say you are?
Should you stop right here and let things be
or should you take up the challenge again,
and take it far?

Should you listen to the naysayers when they say
that such things you seek can’t be done?
Or should you turn your head forward and keep going,
knowing that before long,
those doubters will be gone?

So is your glass half-full,
or is it half empty?
Is there even a glass for you to see where you really are?
Or are you simply – right now –
exactly where you need be?

via Glass — The Daily Post

False Memories

you asked me to tell you
when I last let go
when I last held on to the masks
so that no one will know
that deep inside I'm empty,
and my soul has known no peace,
inside this shell is a woman
in dire need of sweet release
from the demons that keep her captive
even long after they are gone
from the words of those she once believed in,
telling her that her worth's akin to none
so instead, let me tell you a story
of the last time i let go -
it will be a lie, a false memory
that only i will know

Daily Prompt – False

Layers

she needs the layers to cover her fears
every single one of them demanding
that she put on a happy face despite the years
of failures and disappointments, never ending

and every night as she takes them off, one by one,
she tells herself that tomorrow will be better,
maybe one day, all her nightmares will be gone,
and life can finally be kind to her.

via Layers — The Daily Post

Autonomy

Am I really in charge
like I​ used to be,
when I​ made the decision to let go
and finally be free?

but that was so long ago
when my world was much simpler then,
when the days were much brighter,
and the long nights not yet fallen,

when dreams could be a reality,
when despair didn’t walk by my side.
Am I really in charge now that I’m older,
or am I just numb and dead inside?

via Autonomy — The Daily Post