They say rip stands for rest in peace..
I've tried , but I'm left here resting in pieces.
with you gone if it feels like something is missing.
It's like a phantom iche, but I just can't help it ,so keep scratching.
I'm hoping that somehow I'll dig deep enough and go back in time.
Only unearthing memories hurt myself more than the sound of a flatline.
knowing you gone, does little to apearse it.
Moving on doesn't seem worth it.
they say rip stands for rest in peace
all the while , I'm resting in pieces



~ ♡
©All rights reserved

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Writer

Writing used to be fun. Now it feels empty
Before, it was a way for emptying my soul when life became too heavy.
It used to be my pen and me, solving one problem at a time.
Now it's just my pen scribbling line by line.
I can no longer seem to find myself buried in the verses.
I read them around, and it seemed like curses.
I wish I could run back in time , the time when the writer in me knew how to sow words with emotion that were mine.
Watering each word with spice , nuturing them so they rythme .
Making e ach verse one of a kind, a true representation of my reality.
I often sit back and wonder where I lost this little writer of my mine.

I often wonder when it comes to writing, if this is the end of my line.

© spechless
©All rights reserved

#life #poems #writing

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friend

warned you our firend is come to an end you brushed t time and time again, now I standing at a grave away fill with momentos we've made from way back then, flowers in hand ready to wish our friendship farewell


~LOST VOICE ♡

2023-10-10

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Somehow, light breaks into my  darkness.
Opening each handwritten letter, I let them see the demons within.
Unearthing a person they've never known.
Lost but  found , caution tape and rope
take my place now , screaming what I've been trying to say for decades, tearful faces, but it's all too late for second chances.

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book

Reading is my piece of mind.

A place I go when I'm falling apart on the inside. An escape when I'm feeling to cry. A good book is the place I go to smile. Because life takes it away most of the time



15.05.22

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The devil puts fruits in your hands,
while decorating your back with wombs.

Depends on which side you look,
you'd think the devil is good to you to.

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kitchen nightmare

I seen the kitchen quite often.
I've checked on the pots and pans many times.
I've seen my mom cook daily;
she does it with such grace,
she makes it look easy.

So one day, little old me,filled to the brim with curiosity tried to cook.
After all, how hard could it be?
I've watched so many episodes of Gorden Ramsey tha I'm pretty sure I'm ready.

So I set off on my journey to make some pastries and, in the words of Alicia Keys, 'I set the place on fire' .
My family arrived swiftly ,
put an end to my blooming culinary catastrophe.

I stood there still confused and in shock. How is it that after all those nights of binge watching Gorden Ramsey's kitchen nightmare, I became the kitchen's nightmare.

~LOST VOICE
15.03.22

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cutting me deep.
ripping apart my soul.
upturning my reality
Shaking up my world.
Harvesting my heart,leaving a hole.
Emptying me, of the happiness I ones owned.
some lesson, I've learned ,to a liars a promises is just word.

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Dear diary.
Jan. 20th 2012

I met you in January.

You were overly friendly, and I was lonely.

I guess you thought there'd be a you and me, but honestly, I'm sorry.

It is not a possibility, though you'd be good for me.


At night, my heart still cries out for somebody who doesn't see me.

Unfortunately, the brain controls body, not my heart, because logically, you're a perfect fit.

But heart rejects even the thought of it.

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Beneath the blue water lies black bodies.
Each buried, with their own stories.
A whole cemetary of melanin beauty.
Can't get back the lost history.
Hundreds or years late , slavery is imaginary , yet it feels like it stole a piece of me.

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