Tag Archives: teenagers

I’m Back!

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I must apologize from the bottom of my heart. I have neglected this blog for several months now. If it makes you feel any better, I’ve neglected just about everything but my social life the past couple of months. That doesn’t make it better, I know. But I’m going to start making time for this, I promise.

I must switch domains for the time being. I actually pay for the domain http://www.behindcerulean.com whereas this one is free. I’ll be switching over to that site instead, but beginning New Years, I’ll try my best to resume writing a couple times a week.

For those of you who are still following, thank you. You have no idea how much it means to me. Happy Holidays, merry Christmaquanzakah, and I’ll see you after New Years!

If Only, Though I Love You

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I fought the moment I lost inhibition,
Trapped behind the bars of intuition,
I watched you as you tread on path so broken
and left with nothing there when you were open.
Might be I travelled light, without much burden,
saw you in my path but let you stay hidden.
Forgot that you were there until you left me,
then noticed something wrong when you went missing.

If only as a kid I’d let myself see you,
if only in those days I saw what you’d been through,
there’d be so many less scars and memories to haunt you.
Here I was my love, I didn’t protect you.
If only as a kid, you’d seen my heartache,
if only you could have stopped my senseless heartbreak.
If only we were first, just us at daybreak.
If only we were kids before the hard tolls we must take.

I wish I had seen you before I knew him,
I wish you had seen me before you saw them.
I wish that we were us before we were now and then.
I wish we knew before that we were destined.
If only as children we flew kites above us,
if only as children we knew what love was.
If only as so young we sang the song love
and gave then all we had lain there before us.

But I ask far too much, I’m happy with you.
Would give up everything for this dream come true,
Don’t ever let me wake if I am not beside you
Because a love with you is better than love in youth.

Freefalling

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Fanned out fingers catching breezes,
a dozen thoughts provoked without valid reasons.
Tresses of hair tousled by seasons;
as if I could forget you are my heart.

A glance over the edge of a skyscraper,
the silent, lost eyes of a dreaming gazer;
tossed by the wind as light as paper.
Distractions capture dreamers like a web.

And chained by eerie obligation
held unreliably by justification.
Perhaps not more than sickly-sweet sedation
and a fall into the sky.

Thrown beyond all inhibition,
hair thrown back in new disposition.
Eyes stitched shut, wary elation;
will a savior come cease this fall?

A parachute cut short of strings,
a struggle with more mortal things–
wed to Grim with eternal rings,
but forever alive in spirit, in soul.

A fool, trapped blind in swollen bliss.
Steady clouds that shed a mist.
Forgotten sorrow traded for happiness,
until eyes open once more.

Pavement spread like grain and grass,
unspoken truce of shattered glass
and shattered bone may come to pass.
Closer, closer, meters away.

Heart speeds, jumps out of my chest,
eyes washed white, and black, the rest.
Moon cataracts, for which I’m blessed;
that I might not watch myself crumple.

Arms thrown out, entrapping me.
And from the ground, only a couple feet,
but in his arms where I’m supposed to be–
my Superman.

Linger

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The way we kiss when caught in traffic,
the stolen moments I keep captive;
in memories, in soft-spoken dreams
come true.

The heart you hold in open hands,
the moment you start to understand,
I’ve never known a love
quite like for you.

The secrets we hold close between,
my soul for you, your heart for me.
A smile shared in silent-held
happiness.

The smell of you upon my clothes,
the parts of you that no one knows.
No other woman could
ever feel such bliss.

The moments spent in a little world
made only for us, by only word,
no intruders,
no one left to care.

The moments just after you have gone,
the lingered essence that still lives on.
And I desperately wish
that you could still be there.

Silent Emeralds

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Cerulean turned grey
souls of old, but washed away.
And innocence lost to the day
wrought destiny
and fate.

And child again
as emerald trickles in
spent in black and in grey,
wise of old, washed away.

But masked with a smile
small and futile–
but at least for awhile,
emerald appears grey;

until confidence washed away.

Alright, alright. Last post of the day. I’ve been in a bit of a writing mood lately. I think my writer’s block is finally starting to let up, thankfully.

This one’s slightly more vague than the others; it refers to the green-eyed monster in everyone. I’m not going to lie, I’m a jealous person. But I’m really good at hiding it. However, consequently, envy eats away at me much more than it would others, simply because I am quiet and subtle about it. I don’t speak anything of my jealousy, to anyone, and, like anger, it tends to build up.

But, because envy is not only unflattering on everyone, it is also a sin, I would rather bottle it up and express it in poetry than express it in words to those I love too much to alienate with it.

A Siren Song

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She stray along shorelines,
took perch upon stones.
Felt the warmth of the sun
bear down on her soul.
Stole strings of a harp song,
plucked chords of heart and home.
Spent evenings with men
and each morning alone.

Destroyed mentioned love songs,
created bad dreams.
Nightmares and sorrow
that came of the sea.
Drowned in the tears
wept by fish of the bay,
the men fall to blunder
and drifting away.

She captured forbidden
and vows beyond scare.
All but forgiven,
and lost beyond care.
Heartless beyond words
and guiltless beyond loss.
Had given her whole heart
for a treacherous cost.

And so tortured and beaten
by heart and by theft,
and swollen with sorrow
of her love lost bereft.
To compensate for her forgotten,
a wail like the wind,
and lured into darkness,
the legs of many men.

And drowned in the shallow
of waters inches high,
caught by the gaze
of a siren’s blind eye.
Captured by the song
that so entranced them,
and now and forever,
she will thieve them again.

Awaiting the Dawn

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Been standing here for what seems like forever,
yearning for the moment we might be together.
And the time upon us comes as no surprise,
though I wish I’d watched the sun set in your eyes.

Been watching the east for far too many days now,
waiting for the day you’ll pass my way now.
Shall I count the times that I’ve whispered your name now?
No perhaps, that might seem just a tad too much.

The panthers of the night have strayed from homes to join me
prowling on careful paws and eyes trained on the east.
Waiting for the dawn that we have sought for far too long,
and upon morning break, they shall finally leave me.

But until that moment that you take their place,
here beside me, waiting for you, they’ll remain.
The only chance I have for things to feel the same,
because the day you walked into my life, everything changed.

Still Burning Bright

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I awoke on the morn’
at such an early hour;
the sun had not yet taken her throne.
The souls of the lost,
and the burned, and the bright
watched me watching their unknown.
Millions of eyes in the wake
with wide open lids
that carry wishes upon heavy hearts,
to the beams into Heaven
to place at God’s feet
with a dream that they may find a new start.

But instead of silver chariots
racing into the dawn,
I watch the lone hole burned into the sky.
A darkening red, pink
and a crimson-colored tale
soaring across the worlds in my eyes.
And I think of the stars
most of which all gone now,
for so many millions of years in the past.
And I wonder of this one,
and what was his fate?
And how long was he able to last?

He burns so much brighter,
stands so much taller,
an unspoken pride in his blaze.
A pyre behind him
with a trailing veil of ash
and the stars that, for him, would part ways.
And his passion is stronger,
and his power is pure,
and he resembles a lion with a mane.
Announcing to his pride
that he alone, would be king,
and all others who oppose should be slain.

And I wonder, with fear
that he might dissolve,
the brightest fires always burn out the first.
I yearn for his words,
for his promise, his vow
that in a few million years he won’t burst.
That as I watch him now,
a million years in the past
he is not already gone.
That as I watch him now,
he is as he was
and he has not left the others to burn alone.

A small comfort to me,
that passion will not burn out
that love itself shall never be smothered.
That the burning star to me
is still passionately
burning bright for now and forever.

Well, the surgery went well (obviously, I’m still here, aren’t I?). Like I said, it was just a minor little surgery, and I was literally out of the hospital by about 10 in the morning. Which was pretty amazing really, and now my surgeries are ALL over! I’m so glad!

This is all about love, and the idea that love is not like a star, or a flame. I always thought it was interesting that when you look up at the stars at night, most of them are already dead. They are so far away, we are looking at the stars that are millions of years older, because that’s how long the light takes to reach the earth. And the saying goes that the brightest stars burn out the fastest.

Love is different. Love and passion that burn bright in the beginning do not necessarily burn out the fastest. If it is true love, passion will never leave the relationship, and the love will never burn out. True love is nothing like a star, it’s eternal.

And Snow Falls From Her Sky

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She steps out onto the terrace,
and gazes at the sky.
Perhaps it shall uncover some truth this day
that since now, she’s been denied.

What is this world, why am I here?
she wonders with a sigh.
She asks in blatant amnesty
if she might know the reason why.

Snow falls again this day,
in the middle of the spring.
There is no sun, no moon, no clouds;
only forgotten things.

Like beams that come from nowhere
of light that may not truly be.
And darkness that comes without warning
any day, any night, suddenly.

And moments that last forever,
time stopped by empty words.
Promises of a beautiful place
beyond this snow-globe world.

And the case that now confines her
to a land she’d never been.
She places her hand upon the glass
and yearns for her heart within.

And the land above that spans her,
the lightbulb in the room.
The cat that prowls and watches her,
the flowers in the vase that bloom.

The fish that so resembles her life,
only palace is his home.
The dog that barks incessantly
when the Others leave him alone.

The mother that cries for her child’s loss,
she yearns to touch her hand.
To promise her she is still alive,
here, in this snowglobe land.

The father who is now a lush,
and spends days and nights in a vapor.
The sister who sleeps in the very room
where Snow Girl’s life feels tapered.

Her tiny fingers leave prints of dust
upon the glass held strong.
She yearns to hold herself again,
for she’s been here far too long.

Too long missing, too long gone,
in a world she should not be.
A globe of snow, shaken each day
and tortured by what she sees.

The mouse that crawls in during the night,
places his palm to hers.
Understands her entrapment
in not so many words.

Would release her if he could,
but cannot break the glass.
So becomes her companion
until the day that he is past.

And again, alone, in snow.
In house she can’t enter,
trapped in spring and summer and fall;
cursed to forever winter.

And so she sits upon church steps,
and watches her outside.
Is shaken again, and falls again,
and snow falls from her sky.

I was watching a rather strange show on Cartoon Network last night called MAD. I had never seen it before and I don’t plan to see it again, but it did bring up a rather strange idea. It gave a fake term of phobia for “the fear that if you shake a snowglobe you are ruining the lives of many little people inside.” It was meant to be funny, but I thought that with a little effort, I could change it to beautiful. And out of that came this.

On another note, I will be undergoing surgery tomorrow so I’m not sure if I’ll be able to post anything. I’m going to try my best to get something written tonight and schedule it for tomorrow but the last time I scheduled a post it didn’t pan out and I ended up having to post it myself. So we’ll see what happens. If nothing else, I’ll write something up while I’m in recovery on my iPod and post it that way. Of course, if that does happen to be the case, you’ll have to forgive my writing. It may not be amazing in my drugged-up state.