You made me miss
Out on a world,
A world I can see through
A mirror.
A version of me I cannot be
Because I need you to hold my hand.
To protect you
I judge and later find out I was mistaken.
But not because of myself,
Because they had the opposite
Showing posts with label Zoe. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Zoe. Show all posts
Monday, May 13, 2013
The Strangest Thing
I found the strangest thing in my pocket...
I found the strangest thing in my pocket today,A snow white star from a galaxy far away.
It came with a little note attached,
That read, ‘my love will never be matched,
To whomever finds this package from me to you,
Know that any love you feel will always be true,
And that someone, somewhere loves you very much,
So if you feel lonely just hold this as such,
And sigh a sigh so full of love,
Because that is how this star travelled to you from above.’
I blinked in surprise
As tears filled my eyes.
And I vowed then and there
To show everyone dear to me how much I care.
And just then it hit me
A scheme made so perfectly.
I would whisk them along
And dance with them to the beat of our song!
How funny it is how one strange thing
Could make such a difference with all the happiness it would bring.
-Zoe
White Noise
White noise.
A different perspective than your own
Being spoken.
You hear
But cannot quite comprehend
What they are saying.
A hell different than your own.
Problems
Worse than you could have possibly imagined.
On their own.
A person
Not unlike you,
With similar but not the same dilemmas.
A different experience.
Life.
You smile and nod,
Your mind reeling.
And then it’s over
And they are the same as before.
Yet something is different.
White
Noise
Gone.
-Zoe
A different perspective than your own
Being spoken.
You hear
But cannot quite comprehend
What they are saying.
A hell different than your own.
Problems
Worse than you could have possibly imagined.
On their own.
A person
Not unlike you,
With similar but not the same dilemmas.
A different experience.
Life.
You smile and nod,
Your mind reeling.
And then it’s over
And they are the same as before.
Yet something is different.
White
Noise
Gone.
-Zoe
Sunday, March 3, 2013
Looking Back
Everything is different.
You scream and rant hateful words in a language I don’t comprehend. As adjectives roll around me in the stagnant air my mind wanders once more. A defense mechanism of mine.
I wonder how we got to this point in time…it seems like this is my relationship with you. Forever. But when I complain to him…. When I look back in time through the thread he weaves into a beautiful tapestry of a story being told for the very first time…. I realize something.
We were happy once. You used to laugh and smile and tell me I was the perfect daughter…and that you were proud of me. You used to love him too. How did it change? What, in any of us, changed to make that heaven into this hell? I love you and it hurts. Hurts to feel your disappointment pin me to the ground like nails.
I don’t know how to talk. I cannot speak out loud. But…inside…I cry out for help…and no one answers…because…I don’t want them to know.
Now, looking back once more…I realize we have changed again. You tell me you love me now. You say I’m incredible…now. Even if the next moment you scream at me how wrong I am. At least you love me now….
And the cycle starts again.
-Zoe
Once
I used to believe in hugs
That they were magic
I used to believe in dreams
That they were possible
I used to believe in family
That the bond was unbreakable
I used to believe in love
But then I met you
-Zoe
That they were magic
I used to believe in dreams
That they were possible
I used to believe in family
That the bond was unbreakable
I used to believe in love
But then I met you
-Zoe
Saturday, March 2, 2013
In Your Eyes
What do you see
When you look at me?
Are you proud
Of who I’ve grown to be?
Please,
Speak honestly.
You wish for another girl
To take the place of me.
I know
Because
You don’t see the real me.
I get that you are angry,
That you have regrets.
I just wish you’d see
What you’ve done
To me.
There is a warped mirror
That only works for me.
It only shows me
Who I am
In your eyes.
-Zoe
When you look at me?
Are you proud
Of who I’ve grown to be?
Please,
Speak honestly.
You wish for another girl
To take the place of me.
I know
Because
You don’t see the real me.
I get that you are angry,
That you have regrets.
I just wish you’d see
What you’ve done
To me.
There is a warped mirror
That only works for me.
It only shows me
Who I am
In your eyes.
-Zoe
Emotions
Ambiguous,
A swirl of incoherent colors.
And, sometimes,
Not even that.
Just shapes.
Like dust being swept away by
wind.
Faint.
Yet still there.
They have names.
But that's not useful at all.
For names can never express
The complexity of things we feel.
Because everyone means something
Different when they say the same
thing.
So why bother?
Because we're humans.
And humans never know when to
Stop.
-Zoe
Memories
Memories
Are water,
forever changing
Conforming to what you believe.
Fading away into mist
Because the bright, hot measure of time dries them up.
But I don't want that.
I don't want to forget all of my moments spent with you.
Though it might hurt, I want to remember.
Always.
Even if we don't work out.
Still, I want to remember.
Because even if we don't feel that way sometime in the distant future.
The memories I will keep will be proof that we feel that way now.
-Zoe
Are water,
forever changing
Conforming to what you believe.
Fading away into mist
Because the bright, hot measure of time dries them up.
But I don't want that.
I don't want to forget all of my moments spent with you.
Though it might hurt, I want to remember.
Always.
Even if we don't work out.
Still, I want to remember.
Because even if we don't feel that way sometime in the distant future.
The memories I will keep will be proof that we feel that way now.
-Zoe
Life
Life is a candle,
Continuing to burn.
It is a book.
A book that is filled with individual stories.
A book whose stories
Are starting and ending.
Always being added to,
Always changing
An endless circle.
Life has a wish.
Just one it wants.
A seemingly simple wish.
To be read.
From cover to cover
To have each page see the light of day.
Each page feel movement.
Each page feeling fulfilled.
But Life's wish cannot be granted.
Life is too complex to waste time
Reading every little story.
Only the seldom few are lucky enough to be read.
And luckier still are the pages that feel movement
Not once.
But over and over.
Is it right?
Is it moral to decide that just because people are poor
or girls,
that their stories are not important to read?
Is it human to decide such a thing?
Or is that God's job?
Do we believe that we are our own God?
Maybe we should just stop.
Stop and listen.
Life is trying to tell us something;
That much I know.
But just because I know it doesn't mean you shouldn't either.
You need to hear Life's message too.
Who knows.
You might be surprised by what you can learn if you just...
Listen.
-Zoe
Continuing to burn.
It is a book.
A book that is filled with individual stories.
A book whose stories
Are starting and ending.
Always being added to,
Always changing
An endless circle.
Life has a wish.
Just one it wants.
A seemingly simple wish.
To be read.
From cover to cover
To have each page see the light of day.
Each page feel movement.
Each page feeling fulfilled.
But Life's wish cannot be granted.
Life is too complex to waste time
Reading every little story.
Only the seldom few are lucky enough to be read.
And luckier still are the pages that feel movement
Not once.
But over and over.
Is it right?
Is it moral to decide that just because people are poor
or girls,
that their stories are not important to read?
Is it human to decide such a thing?
Or is that God's job?
Do we believe that we are our own God?
Maybe we should just stop.
Stop and listen.
Life is trying to tell us something;
That much I know.
But just because I know it doesn't mean you shouldn't either.
You need to hear Life's message too.
Who knows.
You might be surprised by what you can learn if you just...
Listen.
-Zoe
Death
Death comes,
Stealthily quiet.
Silent on leopard's feet.
Waiting.
Until the right moment
To reveal itself.
Then it becomes a Rider.
On a black steed,
Whose hooves clatter
On cobblestones.
Letting everyone know
He's arrived.
Then he claims his victim,
And changes once more.
Into a dragon,
Black and long.
More like a serpent
Than anything else.
And with his precious cargo
He disappears;
Until he is called
Once more.
-Zoe
Stealthily quiet.
Silent on leopard's feet.
Waiting.
Until the right moment
To reveal itself.
Then it becomes a Rider.
On a black steed,
Whose hooves clatter
On cobblestones.
Letting everyone know
He's arrived.
Then he claims his victim,
And changes once more.
Into a dragon,
Black and long.
More like a serpent
Than anything else.
And with his precious cargo
He disappears;
Until he is called
Once more.
-Zoe
The Dancer
WARNINGS: abuse
The young, scared girl swayed her small hips back and forth automatically. There was no passion in the movement; but the crowd didn't pay attention to her dead eyes or wet cheeks. They paid attention to her body, hypnotized by its actions. People never paid attention to anything else. Everyone was the same. Nobody seemed to care about her.; they never wondered about how she was trained. They never felt the whip lashing her if she moved too stiffly. They couldn't grasp the pain of a truly empty stomach; punishment for if she practiced poorly. All they saw was the finished product. A sixteen year old who could dance like magic. Not one of them new she was twelve. Or that the five layers of makeup covered every inch of skin, hiding the bruises and the welts and the skeleton-thin appearance. So every night of the show the girl continued to dance, and nobody cared enough to save her.
-Zoe
The young, scared girl swayed her small hips back and forth automatically. There was no passion in the movement; but the crowd didn't pay attention to her dead eyes or wet cheeks. They paid attention to her body, hypnotized by its actions. People never paid attention to anything else. Everyone was the same. Nobody seemed to care about her.; they never wondered about how she was trained. They never felt the whip lashing her if she moved too stiffly. They couldn't grasp the pain of a truly empty stomach; punishment for if she practiced poorly. All they saw was the finished product. A sixteen year old who could dance like magic. Not one of them new she was twelve. Or that the five layers of makeup covered every inch of skin, hiding the bruises and the welts and the skeleton-thin appearance. So every night of the show the girl continued to dance, and nobody cared enough to save her.
-Zoe
Prompt
How would you torture someone?
How do I torture thee?
Let me count the ways.
Better yet, let me give you an example…
You know what I hate? SOHCAHTOA. It’s math. Some Old Horses Can Always Hear Their Owners Approach. I love horses. Oh, I also love myths. Many people don’t understand that the Bible is a myth. ‘Cause myths in their most basic form deal with Gods and Goddesses. Anyway, off topic. I don’t get grammar. I also don’t get nothing. What a weird concept. Nothing. What does nothing mean? Nothing means nothing. Its just a bunch of letters describing
Calm Before the Storm
The cold, white blanket
Covers me.
Successfully blocking
Any feeling
Or emotion.
Nothing can reach me.
My state
Is static.
Never changing,
Barely observing
As life sails by.
The calm before the storm.
-Zoe
Covers me.
Successfully blocking
Any feeling
Or emotion.
Nothing can reach me.
My state
Is static.
Never changing,
Barely observing
As life sails by.
The calm before the storm.
-Zoe
Contemplations
WARNINGS: divorce, rough family life
Loneliness. It both surprises and amazes me how many people don't understand that feeling. That feeling of being secluded in a dark room, locked away, where nobody will ever find you. Where despair claws at you and consumes you. So much so that even if somebody DID ever find you, they wouldn't recognize you. Loneliness is hearing that lone bird call fade away. First happy, then cheery, then hopeful, and finally silent. Hearing nothing as the only reply. It's the feeling you get when you see one whale fluke jutting out of a blood-red sea.
So many people say they know the feeling. That they
Loneliness. It both surprises and amazes me how many people don't understand that feeling. That feeling of being secluded in a dark room, locked away, where nobody will ever find you. Where despair claws at you and consumes you. So much so that even if somebody DID ever find you, they wouldn't recognize you. Loneliness is hearing that lone bird call fade away. First happy, then cheery, then hopeful, and finally silent. Hearing nothing as the only reply. It's the feeling you get when you see one whale fluke jutting out of a blood-red sea.
So many people say they know the feeling. That they
Beauty
Beauty
Cannot be
Contaminated
By the material world
In which we live in.
It shall not be
Corrupted
Like so many were before
It.
Beauty must live in
Isolation.
It’s own impeccably perfect
World.
You can only glimpse it from a
Distance.
And that hardens you.
It teases you.
Tempts you.
Cannot be
Contaminated
By the material world
In which we live in.
It shall not be
Corrupted
Like so many were before
It.
Beauty must live in
Isolation.
It’s own impeccably perfect
World.
You can only glimpse it from a
Distance.
And that hardens you.
It teases you.
Tempts you.
2
Two standing still,
Tall and erect.
One for the good,
One for the best.
One's color is blue,
The other's is green.
One is not cool,
The other's not hot.
But which one is which?
That's for you to decide.
For the world is different;
Through everyone's eyes.
-Zoe