Bleeding Heart

I haven't written a poem in such a long time! Last night's dream have me inspiration:

You appeared to me
In a dream I knew wasn't true.
For the first time in a long time
I felt nothing for you.
In the dream you wanted me,
You said it was a perfect match.
I didn't believe your misguided eyes,
And guarded my heart from the snatch.
Fool me five hundred times and yet I waited,
Hoping one day you'd realize your loss,
But now I'm far away, much smarter,
And still guarding my bleeding heart from the toss.
So keep coming to my dreams
I know I'll pass the test.
I'm giving my bleeding heart to another
In hopes he'll hurt me less.

Who can relate?

What Makes Us Happy?

Anyone can fake a laugh,
Force a smile,
Put on a mask to show we're ok for a while,
But what makes us happy?

Anyone can reassure a loved one,
Go out and convince others you're having fun,
But what makes us happy?

Is it comfort, recreation, love, or time?
A significant other, a pet, our even a rhyme?
What makes us happy?

To find it, I search within,
Take me adventures, see new sites,
Go on dates, see my family,
And hope happiness is what I find.

How do you know when you have it?
Is there a magical feeling that shows?
Maybe a sign appears before me,
And gets bigger when happiness grows?

All I know is I want to be happy,
I want to find the feeling and grab it.
Once I know what it's supposed to be like,
I'll share with others and make a good fit.

New Beginnings

Today's uplifting poem about my new adventure in four weeks.

Things keep spiralling out of control,
My life couldn't be more sad.
The bills pile up, the stress does too,
And overall my mind is so mad.

Time to try new things, see new ground,
Find myself all over,
Make new friends, see new sites,
Maybe even find a lover.

I can do anything I want,
Be whoever I want to be.
The sky's the limit, my heart is happy,
This is an exciting adventure for me.

So what's the next challenge?
The new life I can have.
Do I learn new things, try a new career,
Make people cry, or make people laugh?

The arts have always have been a passion,
The muse and inspiration of my heart.
I'll try to make a career of it,
Find what sets me apart.

I write what I feel,
I sing what I love,
I act what I can,
And I know what I'm made of.

So look for me on the media.
I'm planning to touch souls.
My voice can help those like me,
And full some painful life holes.

What do you think?

Fighting a Losing Battle

My newest poem inspired by a frustrating ER visit:

Lying in a hospital bed
Crying from the sorrow
Wishing for answers
Praying for a better tomorrow

The doctor and the nurse take turns
Telling me to breathe in and out
There's no way I could relax
When I don't know what my body is about

I get the blood taken, the pee in a cup
Start the IV, tell my sobby tale,
See no empathy, hear no help
Just empty words that feel like fail

"There's no more we can do for you," he says
The same words I've heard in the past
My spirits drown, my heart is on fire,
And I just want to leave fast.

If no one can help me, what can I do?
Do I keep searching or give in?
How can I fight a losing battle
And how to win?

For now I just keep living
Finding happiness where I can
Keep all my loved ones near
And keep living according to plan.

Unnormally Normal

After all the tests that keep coming up normal, I got an inspiration (thank you insomnia) for a new poem:

Hands tremble, heart races.
Another test result is in.
I sit patiently with sweat down my face,
hoping the answers I seek are within

Doctor tells me to breathe
it's not my worst fears,
the results are normal again
so no need for the tears.

"But doc," I say, "I'm not normal at all."
"My body is aching, my legs are weak,
my head won't stop pounding,
and I feel like a freak."

So how many more tests
can I endure that say okay,
when I'm not normal at all
and I struggle every single day.

So, doc, tell it to me straight
is this all in my head?
Am I unnormally normal,
or is it more than I dread?

At what point do I give up?
When will the agony of unknown take over?
Do I stay unnormally normal,
or keep searching to recover?



What do you think?

I Miss the Me I Used To Be

My doctor told me to go on 30-45 minute walks (or some kind of exercise) every day. Well, today I went on my usual trail and only got about 3/4 of a mile because for some reason, the trail was spinning. It felt like someone was shaking me while I was walking. I had to stop a couple times. This is so frustrating so I quickly took a pen to paper and wrote this poem. Hope you like it


I miss the me I used to be
the girl who danced until her feet bled
the girl who kept her promises
I miss the me I used to be

I miss the me I used to be
the girl who juggled a vibrant journey
the girl who seldom said no to anybody
I miss the me I used to be

I miss the me I used to be
the girl who accepted great challenge
the girl who always saw the silver lining
I miss the me I used to be

I miss the laughs, loves, and being free
But most of all...
I miss the me I used to be