theemeraldpages

[theemeraldpages]

Contemplations in the moonlight

How do I feel beautiful under the stars and the sky, when they shine brighter than my soul ever did, they float in the cosmos of possibilities, while I am stuck with my demons and their hostilities.

How do I breathe amongst the trees that stand tall and strong, braving every storm, when my mind rattles like an old window when there's a gash of wind, shaking with all the times I have subtly sinned.

How do my eyes search for the colors of the rainbows in the sky, full of joy and prismatic light, when I have grown accustomed to living in the shades of black and white, as forgettable as the shadows in a foggy, dark night.

How do I feel strong amongst the mountains and volcanoes that out of anger erupt, when my own soul is cracked from holding the dams of sorrow until it broke, and with it washed away everything, all my feelings from me in that stream lost and abduct.

How do I not be so damn indecisive, when I am scared of death and scared of life, living in a coffin I crafted myself, hoping nobody would bother a living corpse, nobody would hurt a body with a soulless, broken host.

How do I not worry when my life is a constant state of calm before the storm, when the birds stop singing and the clouds look like scraps of metal, how do I control the wheel of my life, when anxiety and dread stand firmly on the gas pedal.

How do I smile amongst the poetry in the books and the singing in the street, when between Sodom and Gomorrah is where my emotions intertwine and meet.

How do I enjoy the sunsets in all their awe and glory, when my life is like the world after a sunset, at dusk, a book with the edges burnt and the pages drenched in tears, an unread story.

I do not know how to escape this cage, this prison, how to jump over the barbed wire, when pain is my jailer, my master, my sire.

I do not know how to keep my eyes open when there is nothing in sight, just empty walls, broken promises and doors I tried to walk through, now forever shut tight.

I have no choice but to stay in this horror, never to escape the quicksand of my life, never to heal from the endless cuts, from all my loved ones holding the knife, leaving me nothing but a pile of blood and guts.

Because I was never a person to any of them, not a human that feels and dreams, but a vessel of pain, a punching bag so used up, it's bursting at the seams.

So in the end, I am left alone, nothing but dust and atoms on the floor, a girl that tried to dream and love in a house that was never a home, but a battlefield in the middle of an endless war.

[theemeraldpages]

First time posting a poem, so I thought I would start with the one I have written recently. I present:

Falling into abyss

Every day I catch myself slipping further into the darkness after dusk. I become one with the starless night, a void, a mural painted on the outside of an empty building, a shell, a husk.

My mind, a deep well, filled only with the wishes I threw in it, yearning for love, yearning for peace, echoing with the pained screams of my inner child flinching at the explosions caused by the greandes of rage, begging for the endless household wars to cease.

A barbed wire wrapped tightly around my heart, letting it beat just enough for me to live but not letting me loved and be loved, a canvas filled with colorless lines of abstract art.

My hands always reaching for something that is no longer there, like the sun and the moon yearn to be united, but can never hold each other, left in celestial despair.

My mind and body working just enough to keep me barely alive, a numbing routine, a factory created to design not a human, but a soulless machine.

My eyes like rainforests drenched in tears, my lips dry with the pleadings, the whispers, the unsaid words spilling out, blocked by the chance of rejection and heartbreak, a dam built by a river of fears.

I am composed out of tangled webs of emotion, a road of stitches and scars, a haunting whisper from the shadows, and demons locked away behind thin bars.

A mind made of chaos, a symphony of cosmic disturbances, a soul made of stardust and moonlight, a flicker of hope for the better, passing through me like a comet, illuminating the night.