should i speak?

GOALS
=>30 poems
=>one poem every day

INDEX
1.
2.
3.
4.
5.
6.
7.
8.
9.

I love the title, I can't wait to read your poems ^^ Luck!

1.

Trigger warning: Extremely sappy.

Spoiler

Our eyes met. That was the moment.
I knew what was going to happen and I was unable to stop it.
Helpless.
Weak, for letting myself feel it.
There was a regret, an apology in those bright blue eyes.
It didn’t do much good to me.

My heart was beating, my head was spinning.
I held my breath and waited.
Please don’t do it.
Please don’t do it.
Please don’t do this to me.
Bright blue eyes turned away from me.

I stood, still hoping.
Why was I hoping?
Because I was too weak to let go, a voice whispered.
Wrong.
Because I left first.
Won’t we ever stop suffering because of the mistakes we made once?

2.


Hand in hand the two fears walk
inseparable like a man with his vital organs,
take over my dreams and turn them into nightmares.
Rise from the shadowy corners in my mind.

They are everywhere and nowhere
I can’t find them, they follow me
I keep reaching out to grab them
my fists close over empty air.

Hidden, primal instincts buried inside me,
keep pushing to escape
the sturdy walls I built around them
of seething, scorching self-hate.

It was poured into me
by society’s condemnation
of the carnal desires
my core is made up of.

It is solid now
and will take a lifetime to melt.

3.


I don’t want to ever
turn into plastic.

Rigorously, desperately
setting myself right
like my own self isn’t enough.

A composition of different materials
never original, always artificial.

Impressionable, easily influenced
when faced with a little heat.

No
I want to be iron.

4.


I crept up the stair case
slowly
looking for the door that would open up
a dazzling array of colours for me,
only to find the door was gone
and there was ash there instead.

Among the ruins, I found
charred, blackened remains
of things I cared about.
Things gone from my grip now.
I felt a hot anger
and a need to destroy
the cause of all destruction.

I gripped the memories tightly
in my hand, unable to let go.
I would spend the rest of my time
crying for
the colors I could never see,
the sounds I could never hear,
the happiness I could never feel.

Holding the memories,
my tears fell.
They were washing the memories away.
No.
I clutched at them, but then
it was too late.

I looked at the ash differently now.
I no longer hated the fire.
They were part of a natural order
out of my control.
Their beauty was in their
unpredictability and turbulence.

I would see better colours,
hear better sounds,
and feel a different kind of happiness.

5.


The rain taps softly on my windowsill as it drizzles down,
hitting the roads as a musical chime bringing hope.
The flowers open up their petals to the faint sounds,
the raindrops giving life the power to cope.


The drains in my street gurgle down the rainwater,
preventing the over flooding of the town.
When you hear the sound of delighted laughter,
look and you’ll see children splashing the water around.

Spoiler

thanks @Rose and @Spearmint

6.


my eyes half shut
with pain, unable
to see properly
catch a glimpse of
a dark half face, lips twisted
in a half smile
wrapped in the icy embrace of Malice
the half lips open
the hateful voice is loud
and covers everything
it is resounding
in my head
and in mine only
it rises up
it comes crashing down
red talons gripping my heart
in a painful clench
ripping it apart
first disecting it into four chambers
then tearing down the muscle walls
exterminating everything
down to the 0.1 micrometer cells.

7.


why did no one listen to me?
why did they all listen to you?
what have you got that I haven't?
is it that you're prettier than me?
is it that you can connect with people while I can't?
is it that you're HER daughter?
is it that no one would dare cross HER?
that's why im being wronged?
because some people always have the upper hand?
because no one would ever listen to my pleas over your commands?
are some people just born lucky?
because they're born more powerful?
will the world always be run by them?
will some people always walk and talk like the universe belongs to them?
like they can do anything and there will be no consequences?
because there is no justice left?

8.


I took all the pain
and pressed it to myself
until it became my own
and stopped hurting me.

I owned it to the extent
that it started loving me
never leaving me
always by my side.

9.


The murmurs are sharp against my ears
The whispers they’re not trying to hide
It’s the devil’s whistles that I hear
A constant hum on every side

With increasing volume and pitch
Pointy pins pressing on my brain
It’s like living in a bottomless ditch
With nothing to feed on but persistent pain

Their unseeing minds that shape those words
Of bitter, envious, hurtful lies
Giving me agonizing insults
Just because they’re afraid I’ll rise.